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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768418">Bleeding Heart</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRisingSign/pseuds/TheRisingSign'>TheRisingSign</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Justice League: Gods and Monsters (2015)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blood Drinking, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fear, Friendship, M/M, Pining, Questions of Morality, Romance, Slow Burn, Trust Issues, Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:59:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>36,935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27768418</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRisingSign/pseuds/TheRisingSign</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All is not well in the world of Kirk Langstrom. He's a monster, after all. He's been struggling with that fact and struggling to find a way to keep some shred of his humanity intact. He's sure he's doomed to be alone... to be locked outside the world. But fate has other plans.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hernan Guerra/Kirk Langstrom, Tina Magnus/Will Magnus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey, readers, just to put this out there right now, this fic is a slooowly cooked dark romance. (Like prepare to buckle down; this is Kirk-centric, and he has a LOT on his mind) I wanted to reflect the world that these characters live in. Let's just say the ride'll be bumpy before it gets smooth. If that's what you're craving, strap in and enjoy! (PS, comments are encouraged and greatly appreciated!)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fate really had a way of batting people around like a ball of yarn. Unraveling them and unraveling them… until there was nothing left but the hard truth.</p><p>These were things people faced day to day, swallowed down as they pushed on. It was to be expected. The people callow enough to test fate’s steady and unyielding hand were eventually met with one, hard-hitting fact:</p><p>They are what they are.</p><p>So then why, Kirk wondered, was his jaw locked around this man's throat? Why couldn’t he pull himself away, hard as he tried? His inhuman eyes shut tight, not daring to see the work he made of his victim, but he could feel warmth pooling around his palm on the concrete. </p><p>They were in a well-tucked alley. The man’s feeble struggling was of no consequence to him, red steadily spilling down his throat to fill the bottomless pit that was his hunger. Granted, he was a scum-of-the-earth, child-trafficking bastard, but what exactly did that make Kirk? </p><p>He couldn’t even recall the moment he jumped him; it all happened so fast. He’d heard the commotion from the fire escape of an abandoned building, young girls crying and pleading to be let free. The man barked at them, threatened to blow their brains out if they didn’t comply. Kirk heard the click of a gun. </p><p>For Gotham’s worst, the nighttime was the perfect time to get on with their sick business, and tonight was no different. The shadows were a cesspool of quiet havoc. But Kirk hid there, too. </p><p>His eyes were trained on the man as he corralled the girls into the dilapidated building across from him. The hunger swelled inside him, much like it always did. It always thirsted. Always wanted. And sometimes the rodents he’d come across weren’t enough. No… They were never enough. The fire he felt in his throat was unrelenting, and the aches that overtook him were mind-numbing. He pondered the taste of this man’s blood, of the life that coursed through him over and over again. He didn’t deserve it.</p><p>Then… blackout.</p><p>He thought to himself now: Was this a good deed, a heroic one? The gun was forgotten on the ground, harmful to no one. The man fought no more. He rose from his kill, fangs hanging like bloodied daggers behind his snarling lips. The frenzied haze behind his eyes slowly dissolved, and it was then that he truly grasped what he had done. </p><p>Yes, this had to be right. He was making the best of his… circumstances. This had to be right, otherwise…</p><p>Running from the thought, he kicked open the door that held the girls, taking no care to clean himself up. His collar was stained and soaked through, fingers dripping with red. There was a group of six, all no older than seventeen. “You’re safe.” He said. The girls simply stared, terror in their eyes at what stood before them. No doubt they’d heard the gurgling shouts of their once-breathing assailant. “Please,” he insisted, “I won’t hurt you.” As if that was the assurance they were waiting for, the trembling girls poured out of the space, not looking back. </p><p>He stared after them, a sinking feeling in his stomach as soon as they disappeared around the corner of the building. Alone again. These days, he’d grown used to it, skulking around in the dark for fear of losing control. But the city was large, and the smells that wafted to him day after day had eaten away at him. More and more he found himself… indulging certain scenarios in his head before stuffing it all back down. That question of fate rose once more as he stared at a face unrecognizable. It was his own, gleaming back at him from a puddle beneath the gutter. Until tonight, he refused to take a human life. Until tonight, he was just a man in a cruel predicament. </p><p>The line was crossed. Fate stepped in. </p><p>He was what he was.</p><p>“Monster…” He said, just above a whisper. He dragged his fingers over his deathly pale face, eyes slowly widening. “You’re a MONSTER!!” His fist met the brick wall before him, a crumbling hole in its wake.  </p><p> …</p><p>The police arrived some hours after the incident, possibly tipped off by a concerned Samaritan, and he watched them place cones and tape around the area. How ironic, he pondered, that their perp was just a few stories above them. And how ironic, he thought, that for all the crushing guilt he felt, he did not want to turn himself in. Perhaps his survival instincts were finally kicking into high gear. Or perhaps he knew that his capture would be good for no one. Either way, he forced himself to watch. To feel and sit with it all. But all he could really notice was the taste that lingered on his lips.</p><p>Something in him praised his actions, implored him to do more of the same. He grasped at the straws of his conscience and dared not ponder it.</p><p>Instead, he decided to think back on the man he once was. Kirk Langstrom. A man of science. A man with people near and dear to him. </p><p>Tina and Will. They were always good to him. Always supportive. Always a shoulder to lean on. </p><p>Kirk wondered what they would think of him now. It’d been 7 ½ months of this hell, but not a day went by where they weren’t on his mind. His best friends. His family. He craved the warmth of an embrace, the sound of familiar laughter. There were days he’d linger outside their door, hoping someone would open it before he turned around and left. But it was for the best. He wasn’t… safe anymore. At least with the lymphoma he was only a danger to himself. His arms wrapped tightly around his frame, night’s chilling breeze matching the coldness of his skin.</p><p>How did it go so wrong?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kirk sets out to find some sense of normalcy weeks after the incident.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“For goodness’ sake, Kirk, you’ll sooner die from sleep deprivation!” Will snatched a small dropper from his friend’s shaky hand. It was 3 in the morning, an unacceptable hour for any sort of work, and here Kirk was, poring over data sheets and petri dishes. The man was sneaky when he wanted to be, smuggling samples of his work from the lab whenever the opportunity arose. Tonight, he had the excuse of a party to turn in early—or so his friends thought. “If you don’t go get some rest, so help me god…”</p><p>“Alright, alright,” Kirk raised his hands defensively, a tired smile on his ever-thinning face. His gentle eyes darkened to something a little more serious, a look that came up more and more in the passing days. “It’s just that… I’m so <i>close.</i> I can feel it. A breakthrough’s on the other side of this and I can’t lose my stride, not now.”</p><p>Will didn’t appear convinced. As much as he vouched for the pursuit of knowledge, the way Kirk was going at it couldn’t possibly be healthy. He looked him over, studied the way his clothes hung looser on his already slender frame. It’d been 2 months since the diagnosis. The nanoscientist wasn’t one for worry, but even he couldn’t hide the slight glint of concern in his bright eyes. Kirk noticed this, and he swiveled back around in his seat, quiet. Will frowned.</p><p>“We’ll beat this. You know that, right?” His hand clasped his shoulder, gave it a meaningful squeeze. “We’ll beat this.” It earned him a glance and a brief smile. </p><p>Will Magnus. If Kirk could have chosen a brother when he was younger, he would’ve wanted it to be him. Always the voice of reason when he needed it. </p><p>…Well, most of the time. </p><p>Just as Kirk opened his mouth to speak, the creak of the stairs sounded behind them. It was Tina.</p><p>“What’s all the commotion?” Will’s fiancé ambled down the steps slowly, rubbing sleepily at her eyes. Recognition slowly moved over her face as she noticed the materials scattered over the work desk. She sighed, her fingers moving through her blonde hair. “Don’t tell me you did it <i>again,</i> Kirk…” She didn’t need to say anything more, her blue eyes stern but loving. </p><p>Perhaps he was a little too ambitious with this. But it was a race against the clock, and each day that fell off the calendar was one less day he had until things turned… bleak. Still, he stood, relented like he often did when the pair was on his case. It helped no one to worry them, and he himself began to feel the consequences of his neglect. When was the last time he’d eaten? Hell, when was the last time he’d gotten a glass of <i>water?</i> His legs nearly buckled beneath him as he tried to walk, and Will quickly caught him.</p><p>“I’m okay,” he reassured, his sheepish smile doing nothing to mitigate Tina’s clear unease. </p><p>“Couch,” said Will. “Now.”</p><p>It wasn’t long before he was lying down, buried under a mountain of blankets. Will was the first to head upstairs, muttering something about having to strap him down at night. </p><p>“You don’t have to do this for me, Tina,” Kirk insisted. “It’s… pretty late.”</p><p>“I know I don’t. I want to.” Tina was in the kitchen, the comforting sound of a sizzling pan piercing the once-dismal silence. It smelled like eggs. And bacon. He couldn’t hold back a smile.</p><p>It took him back to the days long before graduation. The all-nighters, the cram sessions, all fueled by a little late-night breakfast. The tradition was simple enough for any outsider to view as mundane, but the three of them made a ritual out of it. Tina handled bacon and eggs. Will brewed the coffee and steeped the tea. Kirk cooked his coveted blueberry pancakes. But there were no upcoming tests. No papers to write. Just this new, high-stakes project. And Tina kept the tradition.</p><p>…</p><p>Kirk stirred from his slumber, not quite recalling when he drifted off. He was dreaming of a bed, one big enough for four people. It had adjustable firmness AND temperature control, and it was all his. His head rested upon a memory foam pillow, and his body was wrapped in the softest of quilts, and all was well in the moment. But his sumptuous bed was traded for the decaying floor of a condemned building, his pillow and blanket nonexistent. Forgotten furniture echoed the drifts of a long-abandoned life here. </p><p>The light of early day shone through a dusty window to his left, and it hurt his eyes. Its golden streak kissed his curled fingers, slowly creeping toward him and he shied from it. He’d always been sensitive to the sunlight, but his… condition definitely exacerbated it. His skin couldn’t be exposed for any more than 10 minutes before it became unbearable. He huffed bitterly. So the vampire folklore had it <i>partially</i> right. </p><p>That word still left a bitter taste in his mouth. Vampire. The fragment of humanity he clung to rejected it completely, but the truth remained. He was what he was. He needed what he needed.</p><p>He wanted what he wanted. </p><p>And what he wanted right now was to fall back asleep, to pretend that this life was a fantasy and his fantasies were his life. He wasn’t so lucky, however, something bringing his senses alive. His ears heard so much more now, and the familiar, incessant scratching inside the walls alerted him to sustenance. Rats.</p><p>The skittery rodents were a nuisance to everyone, and he considered this a community service, albeit a lowly and disgusting one.</p><p>Nothing less than a dozen was enough to satisfy him, and he had his doubts about how many he’d find here. They were remarkably intelligent, and after catching wind of their friends’ demise, he was sure they’d set up shop somewhere else. Still, he huddled up to the drywall, listening closely. He crawled to the corner of the room, anticipating their movements, listening to their little hearts racing. </p><p>Almost. </p><p>Almost. </p><p>And…</p><p>His fist went through the weakened wall, catching an unsuspecting rat. Without waiting he bit into the animal, heard its desperate squeals as it wriggled futilely in his iron grip. Whatever disgust or remorse he’d once felt had long faded; indiscriminate hunger took its place. </p><p>It had been about 3 weeks since the incident, and it terrified him how miniscule, how far away it all felt now. He’d avoided people altogether in that time, but his need for blood was catching up to him, and his small kills weren’t much. The lifeless rodent fell from his jaws, and he did his best to ignore the voice that grew in his head.</p><p><i>More,</i> it demanded. Always more.</p><p>“Shut up,” he sighed, tugging loosely at his auburn hair. It’d grown longer than he preferred, tickling his shoulders. He’d been able to tame what little facial hair he had with a stolen razor, but it seemed he’d have to get his hands on some scissors soon.</p><p>He didn’t know why he even still tried. </p><p>These last few months off the radar allowed him to map out the city, and he came to know some of the best places to hide… as well as the easiest places to take what he needed. His red eyes returned to the window. This street had a few clothing stores and a pharmacy a few blocks down. He only took what he needed, and he took what generally wouldn’t be missed.</p><p>Donning his cap, shades, and jacket, he bound for the back window and hopped down from the fire escape.</p><p>                                                                                                                                                    ...</p><p>After copping new, bloodless shirt and jeans, he found himself at a crossroads he didn’t expect. He stood in front of a bar of all things, fittingly named “Bottoms Up,” and beyond it was the way back to his boarded-up squatting grounds. Normally, he would never be interested. But nothing was normal anymore and curiosity overrode his reasoning. The brick of the building had faded in color, having seen many years and many faces. The muffled commotion that lied behind the door drew him in. Against his better judgement, he entered. The bell rang above his head. </p><p>It hit him. The burning smell of alcohol, the slur of voices, inebriation. Daydrinkers, with their own issues and a moment to step away from it all. A few eyes landed on him for a brief moment before retuning elsewhere. </p><p>Funny. He hadn’t been around anyone for so long. He was nervous. </p><p>There were eight people here, a few with their eyes glued to the flat screen mounted behind the barkeep. Keeping his head low, he shuffled to the stool furthest away from anyone, wondering if he was truly doing this.</p><p>He could control himself. He had to. He just needed that brief taste of human connection. He was going crazy without it.</p><p>“So,” a gruff voice started behind the counter, “what’ll it be, pal?” The man looked to be in his 50’s, graying hair pulled back into a neat bun. His eyes were dark and brooding, but the wrinkles around his mouth were evidence of countless laughter over the years.</p><p>“Not sure yet,” was all Kirk could get out. He was glad for his shades; he didn’t quite know where to look, and his bloodshot eyes surely would have scared any one of them off. </p><p>“Get a load of this guy,” huffed one of the men, jabbing a thumb towards the screen. “Thinks he owns the world or some shit like that.” He glanced up.</p><p>The news was on and plastered on the screen was the face of a man most everyone recognized. The image was a freezeframe of the man in action, dark trench coat fluttering behind him as he hovered in the sky. On his goateed face was a concentrated grimace as his lethal laser vision was focused on something out of frame. Below the image was the headline:</p><p> <b>Superman: Hero or Extremist?</b> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Superman is the subject of contemplation in a room full of strangers.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kirk was sure badmouthing Superman wasn’t the smartest move, given his boundless, godlike gifts and all. Yet he watched as a journalist by the name of Lois Lane did just that. She stood in front of the molten devastation of a would-be terrorist attack, a steady conviction in her eyes and voice as a building burned behind her. </p><p>“I stand here before you now, not as a reporter, but as a human being. A human being who has seen firsthand just what unbridled power in the wrong hands can do. Nine members of a regional terrorist group have just been killed — crushed under the roof of their hideout by none other than Superman. I’m sure there are those who would believe he deserves the highest praise for this, but I want to know… Where do we draw the line? What are the bounds of his reach?? I can say right here and right now that there doesn’t seem to BE one.”</p><p>The bar went silent, deaf to anything else. </p><p>“Standing on these grounds, witnessing the results of one man’s <i>arrogance…</i> Frankly, it has me scared. No one person should wield this kind of position, act as judge, jury, and executioner. And yet, his work is done, and he is gone without so much as a statement. This isn’t merely an issue for Metropolis, but the country as a whole. Clearly, he answers to no one. So that raises the very important question: What can be done about it?”</p><p>There was something about this Kirk knew he should be feeling. He saw it in the other guys’ eyes. That’s right. Fear. Whatever Ms. Lane set out to do, she did it. He was sure most of the country shared her sentiments. He, however, felt something of… relief as she went on listing his most recent “atrocities.” Was there someone more terrible than him in the world, or perhaps… someone far better? For the first time in months, he cracked a smile.</p><p>He had committed an atrocity of his own, yet there seemed to be no consequence to his actions. He studied the streets those nights following the murder, and it seemed everyone had gone blind and deaf to it, save for one article. Was it because he worked in the shadows, while Superman fought in the light? Did people prefer an unsung hero to a public one? Perhaps the people of Gotham were just jaded.</p><p>In any case, it probably was easier to place such heavy-handed criticism on the one man everyone knew. Took the heat off the real perpetrators and string-pullers. </p><p>“Hey,” the barkeep snapped his fingers at him, and he looked up. “I didn’t forget about you. You either gotta buy somethin’ to drink or head out, no loitering allowed.”</p><p>“Something to drink…” Kirk repeated, enunciating each word carefully. His nails scratched into the glossed wood of the counter. “Hm.” He inhaled slowly. “You don’t wanna know what I want to drink.”</p><p>“I’m the bartender. That’s my whole fuckin’ job is to know. Look, are you high? I’m gonna have to ask you to lea—”</p><p>Kirk reached over the counter and grabbed the man by the scruff of his collar, lifting him from the ground. His legs helplessly kicked and thrashed, bottles of liquor crashing to the ground as he scratched at his pallid wrist. </p><p>“What if I don’t want to leave?”  </p><p>“Hey, man, what the hell’s your problem!?”</p><p>“Let ‘im go!” </p><p>Brave bystanders charged him, two against one, and with a swift kick the pair were knocked against the far wall. Pictures shook. Chairs rattled. No one else dared to try. Kirk ripped off his shades, daring to look into the eyes of a man on death’s door. He pulled him closer, heeled boot pressing on the counter. </p><p>“What if I want my teeth in your throat?” A daunting pair of fangs dripped with saliva, a fiery rage felt only once before overtaking the assailant. He couldn’t close his ears to the sound of blood rushing in the room. He couldn’t ignore it’s rousing scent. </p><p>Just one person. Just one would be enough.</p><p>“Please,” the bartender whimpered, “don’t do this. I… I have a family. A wife, kids…!” </p><p>And then he saw it. Around his finger, a silver wedding band. A family waited for him back home. Hungry eyes stared long, and Kirk blinked into his senses, dropping the man altogether. He had no right.</p><p>“I-I’m sorry,” Kirk choked out, grabbing his eyeshades and barreling through the door.</p><p>This was a mistake.                                                                                                                                            </p><p> </p><p>                                                                                                                                  …</p><p> </p><p>Kirk relocated immediately after his episode, stuffing what little belongings he had into his frayed satchel. All the while, he couldn’t stop thinking. About what he’d done, about the trouble he caused. About Superman. </p><p>Now, Kirk had never been a violent man; it wasn't his way. But maybe his inner beast leant him a little bloodlust in more ways than one… because he found himself in support of the Kryptonian's more hands-on approach. Those would-be terrorists would have taken dozens of innocents down with them if not for him. He did what he had to do, just as Kirk did, that night three weeks ago. Knowing those girls would get to return to their lives, not sold off as some twisted commodity, he almost felt… vindicated. </p><p>That man… He forfeited his own life the moment he decided to participate in something so vile.</p><p>He did Gotham a favor.</p><p>Maybe he should <i>keep</i> doing the city… favors. Innocents would be safe. His cravings would be curbed. And nothing like what happened today would happen again. </p><p>If he was going to be this… thing, he might as well do some good with it.</p><p>The sun was at its peak now, and his broken sleep had finally caught up with him. He didn’t need as much rest as he did in his previous life, but he found the sun’s rays more draining than nourishing these days. And so, he turned in, taking refuge in a poorly lit alleyway.</p><p> </p><p>…</p><p>Two months passed. The midnight moon shone full over the city, a few stars bright enough to pierce the thin clouds. At the city docks sat Kirk, legs swinging off the edge of the wooden platform. There was a breeze in the damp air, carrying with it the scent of the expansive sea. In his lap rested a dark ski mask, leaving him free to breathe the fresh air. In his icy hands was the local newspaper. He skimmed the front page with an almost scientific intrigue, unassisted by light. In big, bold letters, the title read:</p><p>
  <b>Gotham’s “Batman” Strikes Again: Crime Lord Found Dead in Safehouse</b>
</p><p>He remembered the man. Remembered the taste of his warm blood running down his throat. Remembered as he took away his opportunity to hurt anyone else. </p><p>“Batman…” he hummed curiously. </p><p>He’d heard the name thrown at him on the streets. It was interesting to see it on paper. And it was… oddly appropriate. After all, he owed his current state in part to those tiny night creatures. Everyone who had known him knew of his affinity for bats, how he enjoyed caring for them. He was sure they were the key to unlocking cancer’s mysteries, to finally ridding this world of the rampant disease. Wishful thinking clouded his judgement. Everything seemed to go so smoothly… but what part of the equation had he overlooked? What he wouldn’t give for a lab and some materials to work with.</p><p>The rest of the article either refuted his very existence or condemned him, as he expected it would. GCPD had been on his case these last few weeks, tracking and predicting his movements. As any good group of detectives would, they noticed the pattern of his kills, where he went and why. Somehow, he remained a step ahead, watching from afar as they kicked down the doors of his many previous residencies. </p><p>He could hardly blame the people for being afraid; there was very little preventing him from turning on those he came across, good as he tried to be. And he really <i>tried</i> to be good. Those nights that were quiet and crook-free were hard, and it was even harder to return to the bland taste of rat blood. Even now, he hid away from the hunger rising in him, jaw clenched. </p><p>But it always found him.</p><p>Beside him was a pile of the dead rodents, necks snapped just minutes ago. Slowly, he reached for one, preparing for the satisfaction he would not receive. He bit down, making a small sound.</p><p>“Late night snack?” A voice behind him pierced the silence. </p><p>Kirk tensed. “Turn around. Walk away.” The lifeless thing fell from his hand. “For your sake.”</p><p>There was a rush of wind, carrying away the papers. “For my sake?” The voice came from somewhere completely different now. Kirk quickly turned, eyes scanning the dark. Save for a few buildings further out, there was no one and nothing there. Not even a heat signature. Confusion turned to anger.</p><p>“I’m not in the mood for games. Come out and show yourself before I find you.” Another gust of wind tickled the back of his neck and he turned around once more, fangs bared. All anger melted from his face and was traded for pure shock. A tall man hovered effortlessly over the dim water surrounding him, arms behind his back. His dark boots reflected in the cold murkiness below, long coat hanging tame at his sides. Wrapped around his waist was a belt adorned with a prominent “S.”</p><p>“Superman…”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Questions, questions. Kirk didn't count on having so many questions.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Apologies, mì amìgo. I needed to feel you out.”</p><p>Kirk took a step back, unable to hide his surprise. “What’re you…” He couldn’t quite get the question out.</p><p>Superman moved a hand to his bearded chin, blue eyes somehow still piercing in such little light. He seemed to study him for a moment, not rushing to answer. Kirk wilted under his gaze. “Tales of the Batman have spread halfway across the country. Curiosity overtook me. I had to meet the man himself.”</p><p>“Hm,” Kirk laughed tersely. “I’m no man.”</p><p>The other simply tilted his head. “You’re… shorter than I thought you’d be.”  </p><p>“Well, given that you’re ten feet in the air...”</p><p>“Touché… But you fly too, no?” The Kryptonian drew nearer, and Kirk maintained his distance, rigid and tense. The one man who could crush him was mere feet away… and the monster inside him, devoid of reason, wanted so badly to pounce. The scent emanating from the man was unlike anything he’d come across, and his lips grew dry with thirst. His fingers grasped tightly at the looseness of his shirt, eyes glazed and unseeing.</p><p>He never wanted anyone to leave more in his life.</p><p>“…I brought you something,” said Superman, approaching the dock. He revealed the item he’d been hiding behind his back. It was a small cooler. He unlatched it and set it down, watching intently.</p><p>Contained inside was three packs of blood, full and oh so enticing. Kirk swallowed. Every cell in his body shouted at him to take what was offered, but he fought it. He hardly trusted the man. There was a game here, and he refused to play it. Instead, he remained where he was and kept his eyes down. “…Where’d you get this?”</p><p>“Let’s just say I’m no stranger to a little blood.”</p><p>Kirk inhaled shakily. “But… why?” </p><p>“Why not?” said the Kryptonian, boots finally touching the dock. “You seem hungry, and I’m sure those aren’t very filling.”</p><p>That couldn’t be it. No, people didn’t do things for free. There were transactions, quid pro quos. That was one thing he learned, and he lived by the same rule. Still, Superman was all too right. No matter how many he caught, it would never be enough. Human blood was the only thing that could sate him. Whatever willpower he held onto dissolved and he rushed toward the chilled box with blinding speed. </p><p>Within moments, his face became a dripping mess of red, eyes glowing crimson as he tore into each bag one by one. The temperature was something to get used to, but it was irresistible all the same. He felt eyes on him, but not a word was spoken. He was glad for it; he was sure he wouldn’t have registered them anyway. All three packs were sucked dry within minutes, and slowly, he rose his head. He braced himself for the disgust he was sure he would see in the other man’s eyes. But it was not there. </p><p>“Feel better?” </p><p>“Y… Yeah.” said Kirk, taken aback. “…Thanks…”</p><p>“De nada. Consider it an olive branch.”</p><p>The wind, a little stronger now, combed itself through the vampire's hair as he walked to the edge of the dock. Boats large and small bobbed gently in the calm waters, reflecting the prominent moonlight off their clean hulls. He scooped some of the water into his hands, splashing it onto his face. He did this five times, the last two more for refreshment than cleansing. “You want something from me.” he finally spoke, eyes moving from the dark waterscape. It wasn't even a question anymore. </p><p>The Kryptonian smiled. It was a smile Kirk was sure most others would call smug, but there was charm there. It was in the way his eyes twinkled, an unexpected brightness. It was… interesting. </p><p>“All I ask for is a little company in the sky.”</p><p>Kirk blinked. “That’s… That’s it??”</p><p>“That’s it.”</p><p>…</p><p>Flying wasn’t one of Kirk’s strong suits. He’d only just learned of the ability a month ago, and even then, it was too conspicuous to patrol from the air. His… diet change undoubtedly unlocked this new power, and his stomach did somersaults as he watched the shrunken buildings pass below them. He’d never been so high up like this. The air rushed past his ears, cool mist kissed his skin, and he couldn’t help but enjoy the sheer exhilaration this nighttime escapade brought him. So much time spent in the gutter. So much time tucking himself away. Every minute of it was exhausting. </p><p>The sky was Superman’s playground, and it showed. His jacket fluttered quietly as he glided thoughtlessly, and Kirk struggled to keep up. </p><p>“So,” Superman spoke above the howling wind, “I had a look around. Gotham seems nice.”</p><p>“It isn’t.”</p><p>“That was a joke, my friend.”</p><p>“Well, now I’m insulted.” It was beautifully strange, how it all came back to him. The art of conversation. Solitude had eaten up so much of his life that he was sure this all would have been much more awkward. He looked over to find the other’s striking blue gaze trained on him. He looked away.</p><p>“…Up here is where I can think. It isn’t easy living in a world made of cardboard. I’m sure in some ways you feel the same.”</p><p>Kirk didn’t confirm or deny the presumption, though his sideward gander said more than enough. “…It probably doesn’t help that the people in it resent you.”</p><p>“People fear what they don't understand. Humanity 101.” He playfully arched a brow before sobering. “Sometimes what’s best isn’t the prettiest. This <i>world</i> isn’t pretty. I’ve seen enough to know. And sometimes the only thing bad guys understand is a little taste of what they’ve dished out to others. Whether certain folks get it or not, it won’t keep me from doing my job.” He stopped his forward trajectory, hanging like a weightless cloud in the still air. Kirk drifted past him a bit before managing to stop.</p><p>The conviction with which the godly titan spoke was chilling. It <i>would</i> be easier to see all the world’s problems from up here, wouldn’t it? At what point would the world become just as clear to Kirk? </p><p>“So, what about you?” Superman asked, flipping over onto his back. “Why does the Batman go bump in the night?” He tucked his arms behind his head, expectant.</p><p>As if he had as noble a creed.</p><p>At the end of the day, he was a monster. Nothing more. Nothing less. “I think it’s… obvious why I do what I do…”</p><p>“No,” the Kryptonian said, voice firm, “it isn’t. You could pluck anyone you want off the streets, but you don’t. You gun for low lives and the like. So why do you do it?”</p><p>“I…” Kirk’s voice died out. What exactly did he want to hear? Surely, he didn’t believe his savage thirst, his wild mind held any bearings of a <i>hero.</i> Surely the eyes that stared back at him saw past his shaking voice, his feeble frame. Still, he dug deep, sifted through the fragmented rubble of his old mind, his old morality, to satisfy the man who could break the world. </p><p>“I-I suppose… I’ve always tried to make the best of whatever life threw at me. Better than sitting still and wallowing.” Better than killing the people he meant to help. “This is the best I can do… with what I am.”</p><p>“And you… resent what you are.”</p><p>“Hm.” Kirk folded his arms. “Why are you really here, Superman?”</p><p>“Good question… What reason would I have for tracking down a fellow protector?” That same, charming smile was shot back at him. The angry face of the media melted into something warm, something kind. Kirk blinked. He hadn’t seen that from someone in a long time. “I came to offer you a proposition, if you’ll hear it.” </p><p>“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”</p><p>“You really don’t.”</p><p>                                                                                                                      …</p><p> </p><p>Kirk drifted off to sleep thinking about it.</p><p>Kirk rose with it on his mind.</p><p>A partner.</p><p>What did Superman need with a partner?? The man who needed no one?</p><p>Maybe it was his pathological need for control, as certain news outlets came to suggest. Maybe he didn’t like the idea of another super being rising through the ranks. This would be a way to keep a close eye on him.</p><p>Was he threatened? His ego wounded? Why else would he take the time to descend into Kirk’s lowly, cardboard world?</p><p>He searched for the reason, but it never came to him. He just couldn’t wrap his head around the concept. And perhaps the part that upset him the most was that he <i>wanted</i> to. What redeeming quality did Superman see in him? Did it even exist? The sun burned his eyes and the cold was long felt, but was there truly something… good still inside him? Or were his acts of heroism nothing more than an excuse to kill, to feed?</p><p>That yearning part of him wanted so badly to see it, to know it, but nuance was the nature of man. Even he was forced to abide by it.</p><p>The blue-clad powerhouse left him in the night with the question, not rushing him for an answer. But he had the sense that things were already decided for him. People like him, they were used to getting their way. Charisma was something he never had. </p><p>The vampire stared at his shattered reflection, a broken mirror hanging crooked on the wall. The ceiling dripped with the remnants of afternoon rain, and the dusty floor drank it in. Crime Alley: the perfect HQ for a supposed hero, with a surplus of real estate. No one really came through this part of Gotham. Not if they wanted to have a good day. He’d been here for almost two weeks, observing just how things worked here. The city’s homeless packed into a few of these old buildings, and he paid them no mind just as they paid him no mind. Everyone had their reasons for being here, and judgement was beyond out of the question. But when he could manage, he stole a few supplies from nearby stores and left it for them to find. Oddly enough, staying here made him feel a little more… human.</p><p>A smile came onto his face, of all things. He chuckled. He laughed. He was confused. </p><p>Why was he even considering it?</p><p>He slipped out the large window to savor the remaining hour of daylight, to clear his fogged head. The sky was cloudy but far from solemn, a notable breeze pushing between the buildings. It was a warm autumn, not that he would have been affected if it weren’t. He stepped into the empty street, spreading his arms, taking a breath. The quiet, once eerie, was now an expected comfort. A pigeon to his right broke the silence, making the mistake of flying too close. The hapless bird was in his grasp within a fraction of a second, and he made short work of it. He always tried to be fast, always tried to make it as painless as possible. Then, he sensed something. </p><p>There was a small sound far behind him, the sound of a boot scraping concrete. He turned around in time to see a laser pointed at his torso, and he hopped away before the barrage of bullets could reach him. They followed him, screamed after him, but sharp eyes quickly analyzed their trajectory. Holes were put in the ground beside him, drilled in the wall behind him. He dove behind an abandoned vehicle, jaw clenched. This didn’t feel like the cops.</p><p>The mystery marksman approached, voice echoing. “You’re him, ain’cha? The Batman.” The clank of a discarded magazine preceded a lengthy sigh. “Well, you piece’a shit, you killed my cousin. It’s only fair I get to kill you.”</p><p>This definitely wasn’t the cops.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Corner an animal, and you're bound to be taken by surprise. Corner a monster, and even the monster won't know what it will do next.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kirk felt cold metal press against the back of his skull, discouraging him from standing.</p><p>Of course. People like this seldom worked alone. </p><p>Four more men emerged from hiding, all reeking of cigar smoke and bloodstained fortune. Six men total.</p><p>The leader sauntered up to him, broad shoulders pushed back. He was on the younger side, perhaps Kirk’s age. Pain swam in his eyes, but also a distinct, sadistic fire. There was no question about it: he solved all his problems this way. Kirk said nothing, staring at the very illegal firearm he toted. </p><p>“Not used to this, huh? Bein’ outsmarted?” The barrel of the gun slammed into his jaw with enough force to push him back. “Outgunned?” Another blow to the face bruised his cheek, and his back hit the crack-infested concrete. Kirk’s eyes went skyward, unblinking, ears deaf to the commotion around him. The sun dipped lower past the horizon, once-colorful clouds dying into dark. This was not how this night was supposed to go. He pushed himself off the ground, fingers brushing over his face. </p><p>These were the cards he was dealt. Who was he to refuse?</p><p>The gun came down again. He caught it with one hand, grip unyielding. His lips remained sealed, but his gaze spoke a warning.</p><p>The thug smiled venomously, relinquishing the weapon with a shrug. “You want it, you got it. There’s plenty for everyone.” With an experienced speed, the man pulled another gun from the lining of his jacket and fired. Instinct took over and Kirk was in the air, abandoning the confiscated gun. He landed behind one of the subordinates, using him as a shield against the shots that followed. Nothing reached him, and he charged forward with the body and threw it at one of the relentless shooters. They both came down hard, the siege now down two men.</p><p>Sensing proximity, he ducked a punch from behind, whirling around and delivering a strike of his own. The man’s head snapped back in an unnatural way, neck broken and useless. He dropped to the ground almost instantly, and Kirk curbed the temptation to bite into him. A searing pain shot into his right shoulder. He shouted.</p><p>Grasping his wounded flesh, he turned to look. The vengeful leader had his prized gun raised, eye trained.</p><p>“You’re not slippin’ away. Not tonight.” The remaining two men stood on either side of their leader, weapons at the ready. </p><p>Blood ran down Kirk’s arm, but he managed a smile. “You’re afraid.” Something in him pulled these words from his throat, words he wouldn’t usually say. But their bodies so obviously trembled and their hearts so loudly pounded in their chests. Maybe it was arrogance, or maybe he was a bit sadistic, because he reveled in it. “Good.” He rushed them with unregistrable speed, anger uncaged. Bullets grazed his skin, but he hardly felt it in the moment. There was only one thing he focused on. </p><p>Slow to act, one of the men was caught in his jaw. He drank him, prying his handgun away and shooting the remaining goon with it. Dropping the lifeless victim in his arms, he turned his attention to the last man standing. </p><p>
  <i>BANG-BANG.</i>
</p><p>Kirk staggered, took a knee. His shirt was quickly soaked with his own blood, two bullets passing through his abdomen. He stifled a shout, staring back with squinted eyes. He forgot one. The man, stuck under the dead weight of his human shield, was lucid enough to take a shot. He pressed a hand to the bloody wounds, eyes beginning to glow with survivalist rage. </p><p><i>BANG.</i> </p><p>He narrowly dodged the third shot, nothing human leaving his lips as he hurled his gun at his head with marked precision. There was a distinct “crack.” He was dead in an instant.</p><p>And truly, there was one. </p><p>The last man, the former leader stared at Kirk, who was still moving, still with an intent to kill. They drove him to it. </p><p>“W… What the hell ARE you!?”</p><p>Kirk didn’t answer. He couldn’t and he wouldn’t. Instead, his hand reached out and squeezed his would-be killer’s throat. But as he watched him struggle in his wavering grasp, something whispered at him not to continue. He chose to listen, watching the man crumple helplessly to the ground, gasping. He looked up at Kirk, disbelief in his eyes. </p><p><b>“Leave.”</b> The vampire maintained his crimson gaze, all the while snapping the fallen gun under his heel. Without another word, the man scrambled to his feet and bolted in the opposite direction, whimpering. Kirk stood strong until his footfalls were a distant sound. He stood strong even after that, very much paralyzed by what just happened. One threat was gone. But a new threat appeared. It consumed him and it was very persuasive. Weakness beckoned him to the ground, and his legs gave way. </p><p>“Ngh…” This was bound to happen sooner or later. He just thought it would be… later.</p><p>At least he took some monsters down with him, he thought. At least there was that in this blood-drenched nightmare. </p><p>He coughed, breath labored. The pain settled in, intensified with each slight movement. What he needed most was leaving him, escaping him and staining the ground. He felt so weak.</p><p>So this was what it was like to get shot. Wasn’t much of a fan. </p><p>As his vision fuzzed and faded, his mind naturally drifted to the only two people who gave him normalcy in his life. Tina and Will… Were they happy?  Did they finally get married, settle down? And what would they think when they saw his name on the news? He hoped they moved on, forgave him for leaving.</p><p>They would soon find out why.</p><p>“I’m… sorry….”</p><p>                                                                                                                             …</p><p> </p><p>
  <i>“I think you did it, Will…!”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“You laid the brick. I just plastered.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“We knew it was going to come to this. Just look away.”</i>
</p><p>
  <b> <i>Just look away.</i></b>
  
</p><p>
  <span class="big"> <b> J u s t   l o o k   a w a y . </b></span>
  
</p><p>…</p><p>“AUGH!!”</p><p>Kirk woke with a gasp, eyes wide and angry as he sat up. Instinctually, he patted himself down. Gauze and bandages were wrapped tight around his shoulder and stomach, a small clamp taped over his finger. Something happened. He couldn’t remember. He noticed a pinch in his arm as he moved and fidgeted about. There was a needle there, but before he could remove it, dizziness slammed into his head and he was forced to lie back down on the bed he was unfamiliar with. To his right seemed to be a monitor, its rhythmic beeping quickening.</p><p>Thirsty, he was so thirsty.</p><p>“<i>Càlmate,</i> Batman. You’ve been out for two days.” </p><p>Kirk flinched at the voice and turned his head. He couldn’t believe it. “Superman…?”</p><p>“Good, so your brain isn’t scrambled.” The Kryptonian no longer donned his dark jacket, nor his blue suit. Instead, he approached in light washed jeans and a black tee. It was… jarring, to say the least, but that was the least of Kirk’s concerns. </p><p>He stared at the blank walls, breathed the air that smelled of pine needles and tea. It was then he noticed the small desk to the side of him, a steaming cup untouched and fleshly brewed. What once would have been aromatic was now just… uncomfortable. Everything smelled too strong. There was no telling what time it was, as the room housed no clocks or windows. He only had Superman for answers. “Where… am I? What happened??” </p><p>“You were in pretty bad shape when I found you. Multiple bullet wounds. Severe blood loss. But you certainly did some damage of your own.” He reached over, examining the bag that appeared to be feeding blood intravenously to Kirk. It was nearly empty. “And,” he stared down with an unexpected softness Kirk couldn’t bear to receive, “you’re at my place.”</p><p>Not a word from Kirk. As if some other force compelled him, he yanked the needle from his arm and threw his legs over the edge of the bed, ignoring his aching muscles. He remembered what he did. Remembered what he was. Had to get out of here. Had to get out of here now. </p><p>“Whoa, you must not have heard the part where I said you almost died.” Kirk gaped at the man in his path. The photographs really did him no justice. His imposing stature would surely be enough to stop any lucid person in their tracks. But could Kirk really call himself lucid? Could he really call himself anything but desperate right now?</p><p>He could feel it. The dreaded <i>thing</i> uncoiling itself in his chest, unhinging its jagged maw to speak the things he didn’t want to hear. He squeezed the front of his shirt as if he were also squeezing its mouth shut. God, he wished he could. </p><p>The other man’s forehead creased with thought, the color of his eyes ever more vivid in the light above. Just what would it take to get him out of his way?</p><p>“You should have left me there.”</p><p>Superman blinked. “Should I have?” He no longer stood in front of Kirk, retrieving his tea on the other side of the bed. His body language was lax, unbothered. He leaned his hand on the desk, one leg crossed over the other, and took a sip. “<i>I</i> don’t think so.”</p><p>And why not, Kirk wanted to ask. Why did he even give a damn? He felt the tips of his fangs press into his lower lip. He turned away.</p><p><i>Just a taste,</i> the voice inside him crooned. </p><p>
  <i>That’s all you really need.</i>
</p><p>“Listen, you’re no prisoner here—”</p><p>“—Then let me go.”</p><p>“—BUT, I don’t think you’re ready to head out just yet. Let me help—”</p><p>It wasn’t Kirk that lunged for the Man of Steel. It wasn’t Kirk that brought them both to the ground, porcelain shattering. It wasn’t Kirk that thirsted for what was beneath that impenetrable skin. Except, it was.</p><p>
  <i>Always more…</i>
</p><p>It definitely was.</p><p>Just as his teeth grazed his forearm, Kirk stopped himself. The horror he’d seen so regularly now burned on his own face. All he could do was stare. Two, distinct red lines were etched into the other’s olive skin. They faded away in seconds. </p><p>“Oh god, I-I’m sorry! I couldn’t stop myse—”</p><p>“Let’s start with you letting me up.”</p><p>Right. In his stupor, he hadn’t noticed just how polite Superman was being. All it would take was a well-placed flick and Kirk would be on the other side of the room. He moved his face away. Pried his fingers from the Kryptonian's wrist. Lifted his knee from his stomach. Shards of the fallen cup crunched under his palm as he pushed himself off the other, shame and shock heavily overshadowing whatever else he may have felt. </p><p>The other’s shirt was soaked, expression cool. There should have been anger there. Even slight agitation would suffice. But what he saw instead was somehow worse.</p><p>“Now,” Superman stood, “let me grab a clean shirt.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Superman's intervention was more than enough. But still he gives. An ear. A thought. A bandage.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kirk had been escorted to the kitchen, feeding over the sink. Red ran from his chin and swirled down the drain as he drank endlessly, breathlessly, a sloppy ordeal. He never had to be clean about it before, and the way the bag burst when he bit into it didn’t make things easier. Frankly, he didn’t really care for prim and proper. Those days died a long while ago. What he <i>couldn’t</i> stand, however, was the other’s incessant kindness. Superman was all too understanding, all too eager to help. He couldn’t trust it, bad as he may have wanted to. He couldn’t trust himself.</p><p>His crimson gaze drifted to the cracked window to the right of him, carrying in a crisp freshness that was so unlike the city. The blinds were closed, shielding him from midday’s light. “I’m… sorry, again… for what I did. You smell… different than what I’m used to.” Yes, “different” was the word he would go with. Anything else would just be… unsettling. He tore into his second bag, feeling the other draw nearer. </p><p>“I’m no worse for wear… though I honestly didn’t think you could break skin.” </p><p>A crushing silence followed, neither with a hint of what the other may be thinking. It was driving Kirk insane. He was never a religious man, but this house, his presence in it, it felt — dare he say — unholy. And yet, unhostile walls were what his blurred humanity craved. This warmth terrified the cold in him.</p><p>“Were you born this way?” Superman broke the silence, leaning back against the marble counter.</p><p>Kirk licked his bloodied lips, eyes closing for a moment as his head tilted skyward, “No. I’ve been this <i>thing</i> for the better part of a year. Before that, just your run-of-the-mill Gothamite.”</p><p>“Were you… turned, then?”</p><p>Kirk huffed amusedly. “Not in the traditional way, no. There’s no one else out there like me.”</p><p>“Mm,” Superman hummed. He had more questions for him, Kirk was sure, but he never heard them. “It gets easier.”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“The shunning, the antagonizing press. It comes with the job. You learn to tune it out.”</p><p>“You mean I’ll learn as your partner, right?” The bold postulation fell from his mouth before he could stop it. His tone was laced with a venom he didn’t intend, but he couldn’t help but feel it. He turned the faucet on, rinsing his face clean. Eyes boring into the drain, he continued. “Do I fascinate you, Superman? Is that why you saved me?” There was a notable delay. A sigh.</p><p>“I saved you because you were <b>hurt.</b> I don’t have ulterior motives. I’ve never had to lie like that.”</p><p>“I…” Kirk wilted a bit, quickly realizing how he came off. Finally, he looked over at him. His visibly clenched jaw. The furrow in his brow. His burly arms folded tight over his chest. The thousand-yard stare of a man who was met with similar criticisms too many times already. “…Thank you,” he said. “Really. Thank you for feeding me. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for letting me into your home. But…”</p><p>“But?”</p><p>“But your world is too big for me.”</p><p>“Too big for you?” Then he saw him laugh. It was short but hearty, and his broad shoulders shook. “I lead a simpler life than you think.”</p><p>“I miss simple,” Kirk muttered thoughtlessly. A warm hand fell to his shoulder, gave it a small squeeze. The touch was ginger, unalarming, and it surprised him just how… gentle Superman could be, for all his strength. </p><p>Strange, and… strangely comforting. </p><p>“Well, my friend,” spoke Superman, “then it’s what you’ll get.”</p><p>                                                                                                           …</p><p> </p><p>Most would call the Kryptonian’s house minimalist. Plain. But to Kirk, it may as well have been a palace. It was clean. It was warm. Life was lived here, free of ghosts, void of neglect. And no rodents. What more could he ask for?</p><p>Apparently, they were somewhere upstate, a place hidden away from urban life. Kirk had never wandered far from the city. Even at this age, the sound of the critters outside still intrigued him. For a few minutes, he endured the pain of the sunlight, standing out on the porch to soak things in. There was a single path that led away from the house, and a well-trimmed yard surrounded the front and back. Sure, he’d only had the media outlets to go off of, but he was still astounded by the gorgeous mundanity of it all. </p><p>A simpler life indeed.</p><p>He made his way down the creaky, wooden steps, shielding his eyes from the light of the cloudless sky. He ignored the pain that came with raising his arm, instead focusing on the sounds and smells around him. The rustle of the trees. The moist earth below. He turned around. Fresh-grown vegetables and fruit lined the perimeter of the house, lightly dewed with cool water. “Huh.” So he planted, too. From the oranges to the tomatoes, it almost looked… refreshing. Kirk slowly knelt down, hopeless curiosity overtaking him. He plucked the lowest hanging orange, one he was sure wouldn’t be missed. </p><p>Maybe. Just maybe.</p><p>Sweet acidity burst from the fruit as he bit directly into the skin… except it wasn’t sweet. “Ugh!!” He sputtered and spat, a profound and intolerable bitterness filling his mouth. He swallowed down the nausea that quickly rose, wiping any remaining juice from his offended lips. </p><p>Disgusting. Just like everything else.</p><p>One would think that after so many mindless attempts at changing the truth, he would just give up. The little human things he’d been so used to were gone. But he figured life was insane enough already. It couldn’t hurt to test this horrid, new reality every once in a while. At least, not in a lasting way. The sun’s light was growing unbearable. He hurriedly slipped the orange into the trashcan at the edge of the yard and headed back inside.</p><p>He passed by pictures, more puzzle pieces to a life outside of the Kryptonian’s super persona. He was curious, but he did not linger.</p><p>Instead, he followed the muffled sound of the television to the living room, ignoring the nagging pain in his abdomen. On Channel 4, Gotham’s commissioner stood in the face of clamoring press. A wall of text slid across the screen reading: <b>“Five gunmen dead in Crime Alley”</b></p><p>
  <b>The commissioner had seen many a thing in his gruesome career. That much was clear on his face. His dark, brooding eyes spoke of his obsessive search for answers. “…Truly heinous. It seems this deluded ‘Batman’ has taken a page from Superman’s book, laying waste to whomever he sees fit. This will not stand. I want him to know that I will not tolerate this kind of twisted behavior. I want him to know that he has something to fear in my city. One day very soon, he’ll slip up. He’ll stagger. And we’ll be waiting for him.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>The TV flipped to another, irrelevant channel, and Kirk looked over to find Superman holding the remote, a bowl of chips in the other hand. “Personally, I think the guy’s biting off more than he can chew here.” </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“With you, maybe.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Hm,” the other shrugged, tossing a chip into his mouth. “So, you gonna tell me?”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Tell you what?”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“What led up to… all that. How’d you manage to piss five people off?”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Six people. And actually,” Kirk leaned further into his seat, “it was the other way around.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>And so he told him of his attempt at a peaceful evening, his step out into dusk. How the commotion met him outside the door, a foolish crusade that ultimately cost them their lives, and nearly his. How did he feel about it now? As he pondered it, a sick and terrible amusement came to him. The excitement of conflict. The fast and dangerous game… and the blood that followed. He swallowed it down, silently mortified.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>What was <i>wrong</i> with him??</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Hernan spoke, interrupting the growing torrent of his own mind. “You’ve already made a grand statement by doing what you do. People will keep coming, trying to test that.” </b>
</p><p>
  <b>He stared blankly at the screen. Squeezed the arm of the chair. Yes, and he made a name for himself, too. One that the regular folks didn’t like. He thought about how hard he’d have to try just to <i>keep</i> that name. Fight the good fight, and all that. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Just as long as it was good.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>He sighed. “Can’t wait.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Neither can I,” the Kryptonian chuckled. It earned him a strange look. “You’re gonna do big things.” He turned away, crunching on another chip. “Just… try not to be a presumptuous ass along the way.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>…</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Some time after, the two were back in the room he woke up in, the guest room. Superman insisted on checking his wounds despite his reassurances. Honestly, the scientist in him was more than a bit curious. He’d never been shot before, but it didn’t take a genius to know getting out of bed after just two days wasn’t normal. He sat back on the bed now, body tense as the other examined him.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Superman took Kirk’s arm, sheet-white skin greatly contrasting his tan as he removed the old dressing. It fluttered to the floor, revealing a notable, bruised mark on his shoulder. There was scarring, but not nearly to the extent that it should have been. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“You heal pretty fast. Three shots total with multiple abrasions… May I?” Superman gestured to his abdomen, still wrapped in bandages blotted with blood.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kirk looked away. “Uh… Yeah.” He lifted his arms out of the way.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Superman did the honors, expression cool as he unveiled the ghastlier lesions. There was mild bleeding, and Kirk hissed as the pressure was released. It was a dull but persistent pain, something like fire, something like ice. Maybe all that action earlier reopened something. </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Wow. Much better,” Superman said. “One exit site and one lodged bullet. Wasn’t very easy to remove, considering where it was, but healing seemed to begin immediately after cauterization. No chance for sepsis.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Huh,” Kirk blinked, stealing a glance at the Kryptonian, “you’re good.” </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“You should see me when I <i>really</i> work.” </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“About that,” Kirk started. “How come the world doesn’t know this part of you?”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Ha,” the other chuckled, “the world doesn’t WANT to know. And besides, if ever they did,” the Kryptonian’s voice lowered to something much more solemn, “there’d be no part of me left over for myself.” </b>
</p><p>
  <b>Kirk blinked. Past the veil of his charm was a flit of something real, something unexpected. It tore through his cerulean eyes and for a moment, there was something of… vulnerability there and—</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“—This might sting a bit.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“AHH!!” </b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Yep, there it is.” Clearly tickled with himself, the Kryptonian waved the small tube of ointment in his hand. “Povidone-iodine. You may be healing fast, but a little help couldn’t hurt. This’ll stop the bleeding and inflammation. Now hold still.” He leaned in and Kirk leaned further back.</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Listen, Superman, let <i>me—</i>”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>“Actually, it’s Hernan.”</b>
</p><p>
  <b>Another shout filled the room.</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kirk grows stronger by the minute... and so does his conscience.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kirk was being consumed by his thoughts. Every second, every moment that passed under this roof was another chance for him to lose control. He craved something that he couldn’t take, and Hernan walked with it. The insufferable monster in him so easily cast aside his good deeds, homing in on the only thing it cared for. That unholy feeling quickly returned to him, and he hated what he wanted to do. </p><p>The next day was filled with rain, thick overcast darkening the world around him. He sat out on the porch stairs, fingers laced together under his chin. It still didn’t sit well with him, what he did the other day. Maybe there could have been another way; it all happened so fast. A part of him tried to justify his brutality, hide behind the excuse of self-defense. But he knew he was stronger. He knew he was faster. </p><p>He let anger take over. He took it out on those men.</p><p>And he was dead wrong for it.</p><p>Why was he still here?</p><p>A figure appeared overhead, soaring through the pelting rain. Superman — or rather, Hernan — had disappeared some few hours ago to fetch more of the thing he needed. </p><p>He was surprised he’d even trusted him with his name. Of course, Kirk shared his, and a weight he wasn’t aware of lifted from his shoulders. He hadn’t said or heard his own name in what seemed like forever. </p><p>The vampire stood as he touched down, trench coat limp under the dragging weight of water. </p><p>“I’m surprised you’re up so early,” said the Kryptonian, “…or, in your case, up so late.” He set down the cooler at the top of the steps, combing the water out of his raven dark hair. A small puddle formed beneath him, though he seemed generally unbothered.</p><p>“Couldn’t sleep,” Kirk answered honestly, looking away. </p><p>“Well, you can rest easy now. Breakfast is here. Or is it dinner…?”</p><p><b>“Please,”</b> Kirk’s voice rose, and he forced a smile, pausing. “…Stop doing that.”</p><p>Hernan arched a brow, turning to face him. “What am I doing?” The softness in his tone seemed genuine, the concern in his eyes authentic. Did he really not see it?</p><p>“Stop acting like this,” he gestured to the cooler, “is normal. Stop pretending that you don’t have a blood-sucking killer in your house!”</p><p>Hernan simply tilted his head, removing his jacket and hanging it over his shoulder. His lips parted, but no words came, and instead he walked to the edge of the porch with a sigh. “What would you have me do? Tie you up and lock you away where no one can find you?”</p><p>Cold fingers reached for the container. “…Probably.”</p><p>“Oh. Well then. That’s definitely not impossible, but… you aren’t what you think you are.”</p><p>Kirk exhaled sharply. “Get back to me on that when you suddenly develop a taste for human blood.”</p><p>“I’ll be sure to do that.” The Kryptonian made his way into the house, silent.</p><p>“I… Wait…” Kirk called. Hernan stopped at the doorway. “Thanks… for grabbing this for me.”</p><p>There was a smile that Kirk couldn’t see. “You’re really not used to this ‘being treated like a person’ thing, are you, my friend?”</p><p>Kirk clasped a hand on the back of his neck, a feeling of shame moving through him. There was a flicker of lightning, a crackle of thunder seconds later. The air was thick with cool humidity, and the haunting stillness of the Kryptonian left Kirk with a chill. “I guess I… forgot what it was like.”</p><p>“Hm,” Hernan started, but he said nothing else. He continued inside, nudging his boots off next to the window. A hesitant Kirk remained outside, unsure of what to do next. The cold downpour ushered in a strong wind, and the rain reached him where he stood. He shivered, muscle memory telling him that he should be cold, but he wasn’t. Taking a deep breath, he braved the warmth of the house, shutting the door quietly behind him. Another, louder clap of thunder shook the air.</p><p>“I noticed one of my naranjas were gone,” Hernan called from the laundry room in the kitchen. There was a slam of the dryer door. “Are you the culprit?”</p><p>Kirk leaned himself against the living room wall, embarrassed. “Um, yeah… But how did you…?”</p><p>“Growing produce attracts pests, no way around it. I keep a close eye on everything I plant.” Hernan emerged from the kitchen in a dry tank top and sweats, toweling his damp hair. “Was it good?”</p><p>Kirk couldn’t lie. That awful taste would be etched into his memory for months to come. “Not really, no.”</p><p>“I see. How often do you do that, then?” Hernan laid his towel over his broad shoulders, hair messy and spiked. Kirk knew what he meant.</p><p>“I get it. It’s stupid. But if I can find something, <i>anything</i> that can replace blood…”</p><p>“…Then maybe you won’t be so afraid of yourself.” </p><p>Kirk’s eyes were on the floor. He didn’t say anything else. His fears were out in the open, and he didn’t like that. Still, to hear the words, to let it be known, was a bit of a relief. His index finger brushed over the latch of the cooler, his thirst beckoning him to drink his fill. But right now, he wanted to be tame. He wanted to feel in control. He tensed as the other’s footsteps approached.</p><p>“Kirk…” The Kryptonian’s voice was gentle, far gentler than Kirk could have expected. His gaze was unwavering and strong, and the vampire found himself momentarily trapped in his eyes. “You aren’t what you think you are.” </p><p>Those same words. It left Kirk’s stomach in knots. He cracked an incredulous smile. The only reason he wasn’t threatened was because he could snap him like a toothpick. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, but this rage… this hunger… You don’t understand.” </p><p>“I don’t?” Hernan splayed his fingers over his chest as his voice rose, and again, that same, dark expression passed over his face. This time, it lingered. “I walk that fine line every day. It isn’t easy to draw the line and stand behind it. You don’t think I ever wondered how the world would be if certain people weren’t running it?” Kirk simply stared, frozen in body and mind. “You have rage and you have hunger. So do I. Let it fuel you. Think of all the good you could do if half your energy wasn’t spent fighting yourself.”</p><p>There it was. That fiery aura the whole world came to know. What the world came to fear. He heard Hernan’s heartbeat. He heard his own. One was fast, the other unnaturally slow. He didn’t notice the Kryptonian reaching for the cooler until it was already pulled from him. It brought him back to the present, a speechless mess.</p><p>“Now,” he unlatched it and presented its contents, “are you gonna drink, or should I go pluck you another orange?” </p><p>It had been some six hours since he last fed, and honestly, he was famished. He’d tried to measure the amount of time between his fits of thirst, but it could be so unpredictable. The slightest trace of blood could send him into a frenzy, depending on his mental state. Excitement could sway him one way or the other. Anger always triggered it. He pulled out a bag, his fangs unsheathing to their predatory length. </p><p>“You don’t find something like this disgusting?” he quietly asked, eyeing what he held hungrily.</p><p>“Why would I?”</p><p>Kirk shook his head, almost amused. “I don’t know. Silly question, I guess.”</p><p>…</p><p>Kirk kept his eyes ahead as his wounds were again examined, the storm directly overhead now. The pain wasn’t as profound, though the warmth of the other’s touch crept to the forefront of his mind. He ignored it.</p><p>“Looking better,” hummed Hernan, transfixed on medicating each area. The iodine stung, albeit less intensely, and the vampire steeled himself at the contact. </p><p>Again that same question presented itself:</p><p>Why was he still here?</p><p>His red eyes inevitably drifted to the man working diligently, quietly, kindly. Did he deserve the help? The support? He supposed it was out of his hands. But still… he was thankful. For someone to talk to. For someone to care. That was the human in him. </p><p>He didn’t know how to show it. </p><p>Cerulean eyes caught his own, and he was too slow to look away. A smile spread across his goateed face, as if he knew just what Kirk was thinking. But his gaze didn’t linger, as if, again, he knew that Kirk was a little more than embarrassed about it. He began to redress the wounds as gently as possible. “I’m sure it’s a little strange to you that I’m going out of my way to do this. But it’s like I said,” he leaned in as he wrapped the gauze around his back, “behind closed doors, I lead a simpler life than you think. I’m a simpler person.”</p><p>Kirk’s voice was hushed, though tinged with a hint of humor. “So… you pick up all the strays you see off the street, or…?”</p><p>“Not all,” Hernan chuckled, “just the ones that bite.” He taped the gauze in place as Kirk’s fingers pressed into the guest room mattress. There was a twinge in his chest. Not of pain. But of numbing confusion. This was too good for him, wasn’t it? </p><p>Yes, the voices in his head were much easier to believe.</p><p>And so he did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Creatures of habit stick to what they know. It's too risky stepping past that line.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kirk left the next night in a hurry. He kicked himself for ever staying so long. His injuries were manageable enough and he considered it as good a time as any to get back to what he did best these days: Taking down his fellow monster.</p><p>The Kryptonian’s unjudging attitude was persuasive; he could feel himself getting comfortable, forgetting what it is he did. But it was only a matter of time before Kirk would bring chaos to the man’s home. The blood-ridden dreams he had indicated as much. </p><p>It shook him to the core, just how little that side of him regarded Hernan’s generosity. All it saw was all it saw. It fueled only his fear. </p><p>Hernan didn’t fight him on it. Those bright, blue eyes did quickly dim with the news, but he acquiesced nonetheless, sending him off with sustenance and equipping him with a communicator in the case of an emergency. Kirk thanked him again and again and went on his way, determined to forget the Kryptonian’s kindness. Better to disappoint now than later.</p><p>Gotham, on the other hand, <i>never</i> disappointed. </p><p>It paid to have an ear to the ground. In his short time as Batman, he’d managed to get ahold of some useful information. Like which local businesses were fronts for underground criminal factions. And who he could go to for more intel. </p><p>He perched himself atop a half-lit billboard, watching his mole scuttle around in the dark. He’d always been skittish, even more so since he met the vampire. Kirk pulled his black mask over his face, watchful eyes glowing as he followed him to a parking depot. Tailing him outlived its usefulness, and he made his presence known as he headed to his rather new, rather flashy car.</p><p>“Hey there, Harvey.”</p><p>“Holy—!” The man gasped, flinched. He slowly turned around, revealing a face that was half-deformed. He was born that way, often donning a mask to hide it. He was known on the streets as “Jux,” per the juxtaposition of his visage. Other people called him Two-Face. These days, he really lived up to the name. </p><p>He had a thing for coins, for the haphazard and impartial nature of chance. He was a staunch believer in it. All it took was using his prized quarter as a bargaining chip. Those nights he was particularly tightlipped, Kirk would play his game, flip for information, to keep things “fair” on his terms. Being feared was useful. Being hated… not so much. He walked a fine line between the two.</p><p>“Batman,” Harvey offered a shaky smile, fumbling with the keys in his hand. “What brings you here?”</p><p>“The same thing that always brings me here.” Kirk took a step closer. “I’m sure you heard about the attack on Crime Alley.”</p><p>“I may’ve… ahem, caught wind of it, yeah. The cops’re doubling up on patrol, weaponry, everything. Those were Thorne’s boys, if I’m not mistaken. Commissioner’s been following their trail for weeks.” </p><p>“Thorne…” Kirk repeated. Rupert Thorne… That money-bloated crime lord always found a way to slip through his fingers. He had a lot of goons to take his place, and enough reach in the city to plan ahead. But that still didn’t answer everything. “One got away. Know where he might be?”</p><p>“LaForge? How should I know? I ain’t exactly his chaperone.” Kirk simply stared, eyes narrowing. “…Chances are he’s hiding out ‘til the heat dies down. You made a pretty big wave. Five gang-affiliated felons in one day.”</p><p>Kirk held his chin in thought. “So the police don’t have him in custody.” </p><p>“That guy? Never. He’s a slippery sonofabitch. He may not have Thorne to hide behind anymore, though…”</p><p>Well, this was good. Maybe. Either the guy would spread the word, double up on the offense and try to claim his revenge… Or Kirk would be able to track him down and get answers.</p><p>It was strange how he found him.</p><p>It meant someone was watching. And he’d like to know who. </p><p>…</p><p>After his talk, Kirk returned to the site of the incident, too curious not to. The area was still a hotspot, forensics team scraping together whatever evidence they could. They had a lot to collect. </p><p>It didn’t matter what the cleanup crew did. He could still smell the blood on the ground, the carnage in the air. Bullet holes sullied what once was relative peace. Shattered glass littered the concrete, echoes of a malign need. No doubt the people here deserted before they could be questioned, wanting no parts of the danger he brought with him. Who could blame them? Life was hard enough for the forgotten. He was only sorry it happened.</p><p>
  <i>No, you’re not.</i>
</p><p>“Shut up,” he said to no one. His grip tightened on the ledge of the building he observed from. “Just… shut up for once.”</p><p>The voice in his head had spread like a virus. It became the voice in his heart, and it became the voice rooted deep in his soul. It scared him, the awful things it told him, the awful things it made him believe. It only seemed to get worse after he took on this new… vocation. But as long as he had this… flickering ember of the man he once was inside him… maybe he could get a handle on things. Had to hold onto that hope.</p><p>He bowed his head, forearms resting on brick. It was so silent at this hour. The glow of the city was one he’d grown used to, its cool tones contrasting the redness of the sky. He noted the absence of cricket song, the choking fumes of pollution in the air. Gotham was empty. It was full. It was his. He had to protect it, but he’d have to be <i>better.</i> A better fighter. A better investigator. A better… everything.</p><p>He was so new to this, but he was willing to go the distance. Making a home out of the murk had its benefits; he could see just how badly the city needed the justice this monster could provide. It wasn’t pretty, and it wasn't without its missteps. But he couldn’t deny the conviction he felt as he looked into the eyes of the people he’d saved.</p><p>He’d hoped to change the world through science. But this would do, too. After all, he rolled with every punch that came his way thus far.</p><p>He thought back to Superman.</p><p>Hernan. </p><p>He fished around in his pocket, examining the small communicator device he’d given him. It was discreet, a small, black earpiece with a tiny button on the side. If he called, would his answer be immediate? Would he fly across cities to save his life again? He gingerly placed it in his ear, toying with the idea. </p><p>Kirk found the Kryptonian… Well, the only word that came to mind was… fascinating.</p><p>How long had he been at it? Being a hero? Being a supposed villain? A figure of controversy? It seemed there was never a time when he didn’t exist in this world. He meshed so well with it, clashed so hard against it, and he still fought for what he believed was right. And somehow, Kirk thought, somehow Hernan believed that he was one of those “right” things. He, who shed his very humanity. He, who now looked at his once-fellow man with hungry eyes. He who was in constant battle with himself.</p><p>Kirk smiled, sighed.</p><p>Fascinating indeed.</p><p>In the short time he knew him, he actually felt he found a friend.</p><p>It’s why he had to stay away.</p><p>He took the device from his ear and shoved it back into his pocket. </p><p>…</p><p> </p><p>November was nearing its end. Another month gone by. Colorful lights were strewn about the city, a delightful buzz in the air that could only be the result of the approaching holidays. The crisp air had now grown bitingly cold, and pedestrians strolled by in fleece and thermals. Not even a city as brutal as this could go unswayed by the lure of Christmastime. Children hung by the windows of toy shops, their parents in tow. The timely scent of ginger, candy canes and sugar wafted from bakeries, and the heaviness the rest of the year bore was lifted by a seemingly magical force. </p><p>The sky was dark around a world of color. Kirk leaned against the graffitied wall of a building, basking in the jovial aura of it all. </p><p>Adjusting his shades, he pulled his scarf further over his pale face. It helped him sift through the various and otherwise overwhelming scents. A little girl looked up at him as she walked past with her father, innocence beaming from her bright eyes. He smiled, but she didn’t see it.</p><p>“Happy Holidays, Mister!”</p><p>“Happy Holidays.” There it was. That warmth. It filled him to the brim, made him forget dark things. This time brought out the best in people, and perhaps the best in him. And that’s just what he needed. </p><p>He had fewer and fewer places to take refuge now, security ramped up in even the most inactive areas. He had a run-in with a few officers just a few days prior, slipping away only by sheer luck. It kept him looking over his shoulder most days, finding nothing there. On the bright side, the dilemma forced him to practice better caution. To blend in. He would stand amongst unwitting people, listening to the things spoken of him. </p><p>The Killer Zealot, news headlines called him.</p><p>The Fanged Crusader.</p><p>The Night-Stalker.</p><p>In so many words, they absolutely feared him. He listened to the frightened murmurs of the people, silently laughed at the outlandish rumors they shared amongst themselves. One said he was a half-bat mutant, hence the name. Another claimed that he wore many faces, listening and drifting through the city for those he deemed killable. And another believed he simply sensed the trouble in the air and was drawn to it. </p><p>That… actually wasn’t too far off.</p><p>But these things brought to light the very crucial need to be able to defend himself. People attacked what they feared, and he wasn’t invincible. And so, he mustered up the pluck to find someone who could help him sharpen his sword. There was a training center downtown, owned by a guy who simply went by “Bane.” Utterly giant as the man was, he was nimble, experienced and had given him great pointers. He was kind enough to give him a place to rest and wash up, save he helped clean the place and bring in more clients. It was beyond generous. Still, he had to wonder… Why did Bane open up his doors to him? Not once did his appearance come into question, nor did his seemingly boundless stamina and disproportionate strength. </p><p>Maybe he just didn’t care. There were some people in this world who’d seen it all. Kirk never bothered to raise the issue; a part of him liked it this way. </p><p>It was the most he’d been in contact with a person since his change, and he managed to keep himself in check. That human part of him now had more of a reason to exist. It cowed the beast very briefly to maintain that reason. There was also an underlying scent about the man… something… toxic in the bloodstream. It burned his nose and ultimately killed his appetite. He was glad for it. As the days grew colder, he grew more tactical with how he fought. Used his smaller stature  and speed to his advantage. He’d always been a fast learner, and his keen senses lent him an extra benefit. And to his surprise, Bane took it all in stride. It was nice, having a routine, something to return to that didn’t involve killing. </p><p>Bane had given him the keys to the center for the night, a charitable offer in the spirit of the holidays. Eager, he got himself out of the cold, strolling into the empty building. He walked past the small office to the left, past the exercise machines lining the walls. There was another door at the very back, and he walked through. The buzz of the fluorescent lights above was all that filled the heated air, and he removed the burden of his winterwear. The ring stood at the center of the room, having seen many a battle. Behind it were the heavy bags. He tied his auburn hair back, preparing to practice his punches.</p><p>The bag flung with each hit, the chain above rattling with impact. His eyes grew focused, and each landing blown was therapy. He didn’t have to worry about cracking bones or bruising insides. No blood to be spilled, no pain to be caused. No stakes were good stakes. He ducked an imaginary fist. Blocked an imaginary gun. The frustrations and guilt of the past year were in his hands, and the thoughts that swirled around in his head were nothing. </p><p><i>WHAP!</i> </p><p>He only knew movement. </p><p><i>WHAM!</i> </p><p>To keep moving. </p><p>
  <i>FWIP!</i>
</p><p>To never stop. </p><p>With a shout, he gave the bag a powerful side kick, and its chain finally snapped. It flung a few feet away and burst, sand littering the tiled floor.</p><p>“Shit…!” He scrambled to fix his mess when he heard the entrance door shut behind him. He forgot to lock it.</p><p>“Wow. That thing really wasn’t a match for you.”</p><p>He half-listened, looking around for a broom. “Sorry, the owner isn’t letting anyone else in tonight.” Bane wouldn’t be letting him in after this.</p><p>“Not even me, Kirk?”</p><p>The vampire whirled around to see a man clad in a long jacket. A brimmed hat hid his face, but there was no mistaking that damned smile. How did he keep doing this? “Hernan?? You’re not supposed to—”</p><p>“—Practice seems to have paid off. Let’s make a friendly wager, hm?” </p><p>No, no, no. Kirk wasn’t doing this. But Hernan very clearly was. He removed his hat, hung his jacket and hat over one of the chairs and removed his overshirt, a black tank underneath. Climbing into the ring, he raised his fists, a fire in his eye. </p><p>“Keep me in a hold for 10 seconds, I’ll leave. If not, you come with me.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Try as he may, Kirk can't escape Hernan's kindness.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re serious?”</p><p>“Dead serious.”</p><p>“That’s… unfortunate for you.” Kirk made no move to approach the ring. “You do realize you could pulverize me with a single punch, right?”</p><p>“I could, but seeing as I won’t, there’s no real cause for concern, is there?” </p><p>Kirk made sure he saw him roll his eyes. </p><p>“Inanimate objects aren’t very challenging, I don’t think. Come up here and show me what you’ve learned.”</p><p>There was no dissuading him. It tapped into something within Kirk. The desire to fight. To pursue. Saying nothing, he walked up to the ring, pulling the ropes apart. </p><p>“That’s more like it.”</p><p>Kirk made the first move, leading with a punch with most of his weight. It was intentional. He swiveled on his leading foot as Hernan dodged, throwing a leaping roundhouse kick. The Kryptonian caught the brunt of it with his forearm, unfazed. He returned the force, knocking Kirk off balance. </p><p>The vampire hopped back, debating whether to strike high or low. He didn’t get the chance, the other rushing him with a speed that greatly surpassed his own. Hernan stopped just before knocking into him, watching Kirk’s hands come up in defense.</p><p>“Your reflexes. They suck.”</p><p>“Well, we can’t all be you.” </p><p>“True…”</p><p>Kirk threw a few crosses and jabs, annoyed to see Hernan bob and weave each and every one of them. Still, it gave him some breathing room, his back off the edge of the ring. He quickly sidestepped a right hook, feeling the wind tickle his cheek. Hernan clearly wasn’t holding back as much as he could. </p><p>Risk. What a thrill. </p><p>A smile grew on his face, but he never knew it. All he knew now was the moment, and a primal desire to triumph. His senses came alive, and he stepped aside once more as Hernan reached out to grab him. “What was that about reflexes?” Kirk snarked. Finally, his fist connected with the man’s strong jaw, but to no avail. Hernan simply smiled, turning his head against the pressure of his punch. </p><p>“A noted effort, mì amìgo.” </p><p>Hernan swept Kirk’s legs from underneath him, but the vampire caught himself, pushing up off the cushioned floor with a back handspring The world slowed. He was up over Hernan’s head, landing behind him. Wasting no time, he tucked his arms under the Kryptonian’s, locking his fingers behind his neck in a full nelson hold. His chilled skin stole away heat from the other, and a familiar, enticing scent drifted to his nose.</p><p>“Getting out of this would mean breaking my arms,” he said. “You wouldn’t do that.” He began counting in his head.</p><p>“Ah, using my own rules against me,” Hernan hummed. “It would appear you have me on the ropes.” And then, the ground was no longer beneath their feet. And then, the world spun unimaginably fast. And then, Kirk hit the concrete wall, all air leaving his lungs. The Kryptonian descended gracefully in front of him, like an arrogant angel from up on high. “It would appear.”</p><p>Kirk coughed, struggling to get his air. It finally came, and he glowered at the other. “I see you like to fight unfairly.”</p><p>“It’s an unfair world.” Hernan offered his hand. “If it’s any consolation, it was—”</p><p>“—Don’t patronize me.” Kirk pushed his hand away, dusting himself off as he stood. “Please.”</p><p>“…Fun. I was gonna say it was a fun match.”</p><p>Kirk looked away. “…What was I thinking? I got… wild. Competitive.”</p><p>The Kryptonian narrowed his eyes playfully. “I think that for a <i>split</i> second, you allowed yourself to have a little fun, too.” He moved to come closer, but the vampire flinched. </p><p>“Hernan, I really want to take a bite out of you, so maybe you should go.”</p><p>“Uh-uh. A wager’s a wager. You lost. You’re coming with.”</p><p>“I never agreed to that.”</p><p>“You agreed to it the moment you entered the ring.”</p><p>Kirk sighed. “I’m NOT going with you.”</p><p>“Huh,” Hernan huffed. “Round two, then?” The corner of his mouth twitched upward.</p><p>The soreness of Kirk’s back and shoulder blades suggested “no.” That was enough excitement for one night, and an excitement he hardly expected. His gaze flitted to the exit. It was too much to ask for, it seemed. Hernan just couldn’t make things easy for him. </p><p>Wordlessly, he let his hair loose, brushing past the other to scoop up his belongings. He felt his eyes on him as he edged further away, nudging the destroyed punching bag with his foot. The spilt sand crunched under his weight, and he unconsciously brushed his thumb over his white knuckles. He’d leave a note. “…Fine,” he muttered. “Not that I understand why you even bother.”</p><p>Hernan simply shrugged. “It’s the holidays. Throw me a bone.”</p><p> </p><p> …</p><p>This wasn’t in Kirk’s plans tonight. He didn’t plan on making an incognito visit to Metropolis. He didn’t plan on sitting in an underground base full of the tools and technology he’d dreamt of. And he definitely didn’t plan on watching a Kryptonian prepare a cup of hot cocoa with his heat vision. </p><p>Chrome walls reflected the soft blue light that lined the ceilings. There was a sterile smell in the air. Cabinets and racks and equipment galore. At the far wall stood the elevator, and past it was another hallway of rooms. Kirk couldn’t imagine the price tag on this whole thing. He meandered to a glass cabinet housing a line of microscopes of varying strength. He gingerly pulled one out, remembering days long gone. Oh, the work he would do…</p><p>“Nice, right?” chimed Hernan. “I do have one or two people who like me in this city.”</p><p>“‘Like’ is an understatement,” Kirk said. “But why would you need a place like this?”</p><p>“Not me,” Hernan sipped from his steaming mug with the big “S” on it, “you.”</p><p>Pale fingers drew from the polished equipment. “…What…?”</p><p>“That evening I found you bleeding out in the street, I also found an ID in your pocket.” That’s right. An old, dead access card from his days shadowing the lower tiers of Cadmus Industries. They were churning out some of the most revolutionary engineering programs the world had ever seen. It had been a great source of pride for him at the time, but now, it was just another piece of his old life that he could never throw away. </p><p>“Kirk Langstrom, ScD. I figured whatever happened to you happened in your special line of work. And you probably haven’t had the time or the means to look into your condition, so…” Hernan raised his mug to the other, smiling, “Merry Christmas, Doctor.”</p><p>Kirk blinked, turned to face the other. This warmth took a pickaxe to the cold in him, and he felt a smile grow on his face, fangs gleaming. “You don’t know how long I’ve… Thank you. Thank you so much.”</p><p>“De nada.” Hernan glanced down, sharp eyes noticing the trembling in the other’s hands. “Are you alright?”</p><p>“Huh? Oh…” Kirk slapped one hand over the other, swallowing. “Yeah, I’m just…”</p><p>“Oh. <i>Oh.</i>  I completely forgot.” Hernan set his drink down, rushing to a minifridge in the corner. Stacked inside were three prepared packs; any more would have been wasteful. He grabbed one and was about to make his way over when he found Kirk already behind him. </p><p>His wild eyes were unseeing for a moment, as if he didn’t yet realize he’d gotten so close. But he blinked, and a spark of lucidity returned to them. He found his grasp tight on the Kryptonian’s wrist, a pulse clear in his ears. The other stood his ground, pulling his arm closer, and Kirk with it. “Calm down. Breathe.” The words reached him, like a hand in dark waters. He calmed. He breathed. He looked up to find eyes that feared nothing. A face undisturbed. </p><p>“…Sorry.” Kirk let go, reaching for what was offered. He stepped back and tore the corner of the bag, taking care not to make a mess of the waxed floor. His body thanked him, relieved once more of the fire that began to rise within. </p><p>“Don’t worry about it.” Hernan returned to nurse his seasonal drink. “…What is it like?” </p><p>Kirk pulled the bag from his lips. No one had ever asked that. No one had the chance. Exactly what it looks like, he was tempted to say. It was hard even for him to put into words, his relationship with blood. The once-metallic tang of it was traded for thick sweetness, it’s once-alarming scent now guilt-ridden redolence. His tongue caught the bit that fell onto his finger, eyes narrowed with thought. He thought back to when he first changed, skulking around unattended labs at night to get a little bit of clarity on what he’d become. </p><p>“My biology’s been fundamentally altered, down to the genome. My blood is a virtual death sentence for anyone whose body it enters, yet I need everyone else’s to survive. It’s more than just hunger. It runs deeper than addiction. It’s… what I am now.”</p><p>“What you are now,” Hernan repeated. “You really do hate yourself.”</p><p>“You don’t get it.”</p><p>“I do, actually.” Hernan made his way to a seemingly empty wall, tapping away at a touchpad off to the side. “You and I are alone in this world. We’re the only ones of our kind.” There was a satisfied beep, and the wall became a panel. It lifted into the ceiling with a groan, revealing a narrow passageway. He walked in, expecting the other to follow. Kirk did just that, swiping a second pack from the fridge.</p><p>The corridor led to a room bathed in azure light, and at its very center was a ship of some sort. It was small, barely large enough for one person. Its hull suffered only a few superficial dings and scratches, souvenirs from travel.</p><p>“This is your…” Kirk trailed off. </p><p>“Bingo.”</p><p>The vampire ambled up to the craft and reached out, cold digits brushing over cold metal. “Everyone knows you got here in this thing. I just thought…”</p><p>“The feds confiscated it? Maybe at one point, but they never had the right to keep it.” He, too, approached and placed his hand before the ship, waiting silently as it was scanned. From the top projected an image of a man who shared a deep likeness with him. The shape of the eyes, the nose, even down to the beard. A spitting image.</p><p>“Dear old dad. This is all I have of Krypton for now, bits and pieces. Information seems to be encrypted.” Hernan sighed, his features darkening. “When I was old enough to get curious, my parents told me where it is I really came from. Part of me was devastated, of course. Another part of me rejoiced in knowing I was never born ‘wrong.’”</p><p>Kirk looked over with mild surprise. He didn’t expect such vulnerability from the invulnerable man. But it made sense. How could one lament a world they’d never known? How could one fully integrate into a world that was never theirs? </p><p>Hernan continued. “We still have a long way to go when it comes to acceptance. I was raised by illegal immigrants, I should know. They showed me what it meant to be human, despite hardly ever being treated as such. They taught me resilience. I was instilled with those values, those human qualities.”</p><p>“It’s a beautiful thing to learn, and a terrible thing to forget.” Kirk’s slender fingers gripped the railing in front of the craft, eyes peering over and into the surprising drop below. “…I used to be sure. I used to know who I was. Gentle. Optimistic. Content.”</p><p>“Mm,” Hernan placed a hand on his hip, “I’d like to get to know that Kirk.”</p><p>Kirk shook his head. “He’s gone.”</p><p>“I don’t think he is.” The vampire opened his mouth to object, but he stopped. Hernan held up a finger, took a long sip from his near-empty mug. “You’re no less the man you were before. I saw him when we entered the lab. I saw him the night we first met.” The vampire remained quiet as he continued. “I am Hernan Guerra. I am Kryptonian. I am not. You are Kirk Langstrom. You are a man of science. You are a creature of the night.” Hernan placed a hand on his arm, gaze soft. “Embrace that.”</p><p>Kirk gaped at the man who stood taller than him, who already gave so much to him. He searched for words, but he couldn’t find them. Things like this — <i>connection</i> — he was never really good at, much as he wanted to be. People thought him cold and distant when all he truly was… was overwhelmed. But the proverbial dam eventually broke, and he found himself shedding the first tear he had in months. Then, another came down. He hadn’t planned on it, but then again, there was much he hadn’t planned for. Being treated like a person, for one. Still, he quickly wiped them away, noticeably flushed in the face. </p><p>“Wow… I’m sure there’s not a lot of people who can say they made Batman cry.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Kirk half-chuckled, turning away. </p><p>“AND a laugh? Dios mìo, it must be a cold day in hell.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Kirk leaned on the railing in front of the craft, staring warmly at nothing in particular. “Must be.”</p><p>…</p><p>Kirk stayed in the underground lab that night long after Hernan left. He explored the doors down the hall, the cold comfort of those walls. It was silent, but not the kind of silent he’d grown used to. That silence crept up on him and fed him voices he didn’t care to hear. But in this place, they were somehow… vastly quieter. </p><p>He padded down the hallway, discovering what seemed to be the security room. A small monitor projected several images of footage: there was a camera on the elevator at ground level, one at the building entrance door, and a few in miscellaneous places surrounding the structure. He noticed morning’s first light, and it finally hit him just how tired he was. </p><p>And then he saw it. The bedroom, at the very end of it. It was so simple, just a bed, a closet, and a drawer. Yet it was so perfect. He fell into the mattress, bouncing unceremoniously was a long sigh. All those countless nights, sleeping on rotting floorboards and concrete. All those nights paranoid of who may come for him. There was nothing sweeter than the simple things; he knew that now. To him, the sheets were silk and the pillows were foam. To him, these walls were a fortress of comfort and civility. </p><p>He dozed off, mind absently lingering on the man who made this possible.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A god and a monster have a heart to heart.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was a strange thing, to be needed by Superman. Strange in the best and most unbelievable way. Behind all the immeasurable strength, the god-like presence, the manufactured persona, the Man of Steel was very much like most people. </p><p>Kirk discovered new things about him, mundane things that were almost more surprising than the extraordinary feats he performed as self-appointed hero. He enjoyed quiet mornings at the park, people-watching. The house where Kirk recovered used to be his sister’s, and Hernan goes there for a little peace. It turned out he also had an apartment in Metropolis, one not so far from his job at the plant. Laborious work eased his mind, and he never strayed too far from it. Going unrecognized by the people had its benefits, too. It was how he found out about the recent distribution of Kryptonite ore in the city.</p><p>One of his coworkers mentioned it in passing, having seen illicit transactions downtown.</p><p>Of course, Batman would be crashing that party. And he did.</p><p>He was met with a teenager, not much older than the young girls he’d saved those months ago. He didn’t realize it until he saw his eyes, heard his voice. The boy was new to this. Probably wanted to fit in, to feel big. Maybe he was neglected at home. Maybe he just got in with the wrong crowd. Maybe this was his initiation. Whatever the case, Kirk stood over his cowering frame, his gun just out of reach.</p><p>“It’s you,” the boy said with unmasked terror. “Are you… gonna kill me?” His back pressed up against the side of his dented car, eyes wide as can be.</p><p>Kirk stared at him, red eyes gleaming behind his mask. Did this feel good? To be the reason this boy shook so violently? No. Not at all. And there was nothing he could do about it. That fear would linger, long after he was gone, long after the boy returned home, or to the ones who made him do this. They didn’t care for him. He was their face. Their scapegoat. Clearly expendable. Slowly, he knelt down, sighing tersely through his nose. </p><p>“No, I’m not going to kill you. But I am going to ask you where your friends,” he gestured to the unconscious bodies lying behind him, “got the Kryptonite.”</p><p>“I-I dunno, man, the distributor runs the whole thing! I’m just a seller!” </p><p>“The distributor…”</p><p>Kirk calmly advised against the boy continuing on this path and dug deeper the next night. He found the culprit at an old storage lot on the other side of town, counting his ill-gotten bills. </p><p>He dropped from the lamppost with hardly a sound. He slinked through the shadows as was so natural for him, pinning the man against the metal roll-up door. He asked questions. They were answered. The man swore he was forced to do the job. A little persuasion got the full truth out of him, and the name “Ghul” was given. It didn’t ring a bell. Whoever they were, they had enough reach to pull this off, and they were just as good at staying hidden as he was. He’d have to keep digging.</p><p>He collected as much of the glowing rocks as he could, swiftly shutting down the operation. All in all, there was about 20 or so pounds of the stuff. Less than an ounce could debilitate the Kryptonian. He told him he’d discovered the weakness in concert with a few scientists that flew into town some years back. Remnants were found lodged in the undercarriage of the ship he’d arrived in as a baby. It… wasn’t a pleasant experience. </p><p>Within a few days, everything was packed up and sealed away where malicious hands couldn’t reach. He kept the Kryptonian in the loop as he commandeered the ore, piece by glowing piece. Things settled down, though Kirk didn’t quite get all the answers he wanted. There was a good chance he didn’t get every bit, and that loomed over him like a cloud. How many people still roamed the city with their own shard of Kryptonite, angry and afraid? </p><p>It’d be foolish to think this “Ghul” wouldn’t resurface soon to cause more trouble. They’d had enough reach to pull this off, after all. Still, it felt good to help in a way only he could. </p><p>“Thank you,” Hernan said as he watched Kirk lock up the last of the collected ore, “that would have been a real pain in the ass down the line.” </p><p>The dark-clad vigilante entered in the lock code of the lead-lined safe and shut the door. “Least I can do,” he said with a shrug. “I’ll keep an ear to the ground, check for activity.” The corridor leading to this area of the building was narrow and the ceiling was low. It played with his mind, made him feel trapped with the Kryptonian who smelled particularly tempting today. Like he’d been bleeding. Unthinkingly, he rushed past the other, unwilling to sully his one good deed.</p><p>Still, he wondered… </p><p>What happened?</p><p>…                                                                                </p><p>It was a new day. The otherwise uncomfortable light of the sun touched shielded skin. Unnatural eyes were hidden behind shades, and a still body stood amongst a crowd of clamoring protestors. It was around 6 PM; the whole thing started nearly four hours ago. The chill of the air was forgotten with this bunch as they brandished hand-made signs like weapons.</p><p>Apparently, the Kryptonian had gone on another one of his sprees, doling out justice to those who would make hell out of lives. </p><p>Free-speech, and all that. Kirk respected it, but he didn’t really like it. Then again, he’d seen sides of Hernan the public never got a chance to. He watched quietly, curiously.</p><p>Overlapping voices shouting their disdain for Superman shook the block. Hovering above them was the man himself, not at all considered a man to these people. His eyes were set on the group, specifically on a certain reporter standing in front. “Lois Lane.” Finally, he descended, and the people cowered and quieted, save for her. “I assume you organized this little get-together?” </p><p>The woman stepped forward, a notable gleam of disgust in her eye. “There’s hardly anything ‘little’ about it. Protests are starting up all over the country. More and more people are willing to stand up against you. We can’t all be silenced.”</p><p>“And who said I wanted to silence you? You’re here, aren’t you?” The Kryptonian folded his arms, broad shoulders dropping with a sigh. “You may not want to believe it, but I’m trying to <i>help</i> people.”</p><p>“Like you ‘help’ Homeland Security by stepping on their toes? Like you ‘help’ field operatives by blowing their cover?”</p><p>“I… What??”</p><p>Lois stood tall, voice unfaltering. “A reliable source shared with me information on a now-fruitless operation, thanks to you. An attempt to intercept vital information on the increasing terrorist activity in the country. Who was pulling the strings and why. But because of your unwarranted need to ‘help’, the <i>real</i> heroes can’t do their job and keep people safe.”</p><p>Kirk glanced amongst the crowd. Apprehensive faces were beginning to embolden once more. His nostrils flared with indignation. But he thought about what it was to be in their position. About how he’d feel if he hadn’t… changed. He’d be just as scared. Feel just as threatened. These people didn’t count on a Kryptonian falling from the sky. They didn’t count on feeling so small. And Kirk felt small, too. There wasn’t much he understood about his sun-powered companion. But he understood enough to know he means what he says.</p><p>He watched now as Lois backed the sun-god into a corner, hell-bent on condemnation. </p><p>“That, of course, was never my intent,” Hernan spoke, “but I can make amends. I can get that sought-after information.”</p><p>“I don’t think we can stand any more of your help, Superman. Why don’t you insert yourself in another city’s affairs? Or better yet, back off and let the real authorities work?”</p><p>The crowd began their clamoring again, raising their signs as the Kryptonian took to the skies. The people’s clothes billowed in the wind of his powerful ascent, and Kirk left soon after, ruminating.</p><p>He caught up with the S-adorned man an hour later, catching sight of him in his citizen attire downtown. It helped that his scent was so vastly unique from all others he came across. He seemed as irritated as Kirk presumed, the man tight-lipped even as he approached.</p><p>“Hernan, you know you don’t have to let them get to you, right?” Hernan said nothing, walking a bit faster. Kirk matched his stride. “It’s like you said. People are naturally fearful of what they don’t understand and—”</p><p>“—I never aim to be understood,” Hernan interrupted. “That’s sort of a fool’s errand at this point.”</p><p>Kirk shielded his eyes form the brightness of the sky as he glanced at the passing clouds. “Then what’s the issue?”</p><p>Hernan sighed, finally looking at Kirk. “I just wish people didn’t place so much blind faith in these so-called ‘authorities.’ I’ve seen what this system really protects. And it’s not the people.”</p><p>Kirk mulled over his words for a moment. “Maybe you’re right… to a degree.”</p><p>The Kryptonian stopped walking.</p><p>“Oh, I know I am. Weeding out the worst of the worst may sometimes require a less than gentle hand. It doesn’t win you any favors, especially if you dare to stand out.”</p><p>The vampire silently nodded. </p><p>”Whatever premature action I took with those operatives I didn’t do so out of spite for the individual. I don’t take pride in stepping on the little guy. You know that, right?”</p><p>Kirk did know. In fact, he may have been the only person who could. No one else was willing to fight the way he or Hernan did. It wasn’t always nice. It wasn’t always in the bounds of the law. But there were reasons. The vampire decided to leave it at that, and he figured Hernan liked it that way, too. They continued toward that familiar building in silence. </p><p>…</p><p>Later that night, Kirk was struck with inspiration, toiling away at his new lab desk as the waxing moon arched across the sky. It was quiet, about the most peace he’d had in a year.</p><p>Hernan stuck around as the hours ticked on. He claimed it was in the spirit of the holidays, and honestly, he didn’t mind at all. Maybe it was the comforting thought that he could do no real harm to Hernan. Maybe it was his own starvation for companionship. Maybe he felt safe. Maybe all of the above.</p><p>Did it really matter?</p><p>Kirk fought it. He really gave it his best shot. But his efforts to keep him at arm’s length were for naught. He called it; people like him knew how to get their way, and, to his chagrin, he found himself nothing short of enamored with the other. Wasn’t very hard. Hernan was practically a god. But more than that, he was a man. A man with enough room in his heart to look past the ghastly thing he’d become. </p><p>Oh, Kirk fought it. But he had no fight left in him. Right now, he needed someone. He wouldn’t, couldn’t push him away.</p><p>He opened up to him about the accident. Told him about his fatal malady, and his race to cure it. He told him of his folly, of the increasing looks of pity people would give him as his condition deteriorated. He told him of his desperation, and of Will’s assistance. His brilliance in nanotechnology, the lives he would surely change. But his collaboration hadn’t quite yielded the results they’d hoped for. It was rushed, caution cast to the wind. He told him how he woke up something else, something wild and shaken. How he wandered confusedly, dazed, in search of something he didn’t yet know. His fall from grace, his rude awakening, and his refusal to drag two dear friends into it all.</p><p>They were all he’d had. He missed them every day, but he feared what he could do to them even more. Still, every so often he’d find himself at their door, silently pleading without the courage to knock.</p><p>Hernan listened, calm as he’d always been, understanding as he’d always been. </p><p>Contrarian as he’d always been.</p><p>“You should pay them a visit,” he said. Went on about him being an “emotional martyr” or something like that… Kirk wasn’t really listening in that moment. Not to his words, at least. No, there was something just… relaxing about his voice, the velvety sound of it. It was a welcome substitute to the silence that hung around him so long. He found his shoulders dropping, his guard lowering as he finalized the design of his new, official suit. He listed the materials he would need to cut from. A breathable, repellent laminate with an insulated mesh should be able to keep the sun’s rays from damaging his skin… and hopefully keep any blood from soaking through. He also needed goggles, preferably something that could adjust to the available light. </p><p>“¿Qué es esto?”</p><p>Kirk jumped at the voice that was much closer now, and he turned to find Hernan floating at his side. He wanted to scoff at the amused glint in his eye, but he found it obnoxiously endearing.  “Don’t do that.”</p><p>“Don’t ignore me.” His lidded blue eyes moved to the page, brow lifting. “New look? I like it.”</p><p>“Thanks.” The vampire leaned back in his seat with a satisfied sigh. “Batman’s become a symbol. People need to know what to look for.”</p><p>“I see… And what’s that, exactly?”</p><p>Kirk grabbed his pencil from the desk, idly twirling it between his fingers. He didn’t answer, but he pondered. A cautionary tale. Quiet retribution. And maybe… hope.  Instead he asked, “What do you think people look for in Superman?” </p><p>“Huh,” Hernan huffed, “no one’s ever thought to ask me that before.” Clearly, this was a question he’d been waiting to answer. His feet touched the tiled floor once more, fingers curling into loose fists. “I came from humble beginnings; no one and nothing else could have raised me better. So I consider myself a fighter for the people, for the overlooked.”</p><p>Kirk admired his air of certainty. Perhaps it was something that came with the years. Perhaps it came with the power. It was a lonesome road, no doubt. Until recently, the vampire hadn’t considered his own powers beyond their lethal capabilities. But it was starting to truly click. Carrying this curse — and gift — bore a unique weight, a weight Superman was desperate to share. He was sure of it now. Kirk could see it past his strong countenance, the hint of a man biting back his own doubts. </p><p>“If only the rest of the world could see it that way,” the vampire said.</p><p>“My sister does. That’s all I really need.” </p><p>“You have a sister?”</p><p>“Yes, Valentina. Three years my junior and wheelchair bound because of me.” His hand gripped the corner of the work desk, a bitter and sharp exhale passing his lips. “I goaded her into climbing a tree when we were children. But I had the unbreakable spine. She didn’t. For all my strength, it’s the one thing I was never able to fix.” </p><p>The corner of the desk suffered his grip and the sound of creaking metal stopped him. He turned his head away. “She forgave me a long time ago, but… still…”</p><p>“You were only kids. You couldn’t have known.” </p><p>“No. But I’m all too aware now. She’s why I protect those who can’t protect themselves. And I do my best work from the skies.” </p><p>Kirk dared to reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm, the same comfort he’d given him. He watched Hernan’s eyes shift to his frigid touch, but he didn’t move away. He felt his pulse beneath his fingertips, fast and strong. Gaze averted, he introduced calm with a gentle tone. “It isn’t easy.”</p><p>“Not always. But everyone’s got their cross to bear, right?” </p><p>Like ice over fire, Kirk thought to himself. A cool exterior meant nothing. No matter how big or formidable the block, it was still going to melt over time. Everyone was vulnerable to life’s pressures, even Superman. Especially Hernan. And yet… </p><p>He relinquished his touch, lacing his fingers over his lap. </p><p>“…What’s it like?”</p><p>“¿Perdòn?”</p><p>“You asked me before. It’s my turn now. What’s it like being… you? From the outside looking in you almost seem… untouchable.”</p><p>“Wow,” Hernan cracked a smile, easing himself onto the desk with a small yawn. “‘Untouchable?’ I’m flattered. You’re wrong, but I’m flattered.” The Kryptonian stared at nothing, a hand coming up to his clean-trimmed beard. “Being me is many things. Mostly terrifying, at first. I grew up in a religious house, often wondering whether I was divinely touched or darkly tainted. It’s not an easy thing to learn, that everyone you know and love is so… fragile. That at 10 years old you were the best line of defense for your small family. It sort of… makes you grow up faster. So, for years, you practice restraint. You don’t want to hurt people, after all.” He glanced knowingly at Kirk, sighing quietly.</p><p>“But then you go out into the world and see all the things wrong with it, all the people suffering at the hands of cowards and sociopaths. It makes you angry, and it makes you restless. And finally, finally you realize what this power is for. You can change things. You can defend the people so like your mother and father and sister. And finally, you can be… you. At least, that’s the idea.”</p><p>“It’s a pretty solid idea,” Kirk hummed, unwavering gaze on the raven-haired man. He enjoyed learning more about him. His stomach buzzed with a new energy. It was old yet familiar, and he knew the name for it. It was childish, but he indulged in it and recoiled from it all at once like the indecisive thing he was. An unfortunate revelation. An exciting dilemma. Finally noticing how long he’d been staring, he averted his gaze, wanting nothing but to cover his face and hide.</p><p>“Kirk?”</p><p>The vampire swallowed. “Yeah…?”</p><p>“You’ll never have to fight as hard around me.” Hernan stared ahead, combing his fingers through his hair. “I trust you, even if you don’t trust yourself.”</p><p><i>Don’t say that,</i> Kirk silently pleaded. </p><p><i>Don’t say anything else.</i> </p><p><i>Don’t give anything else.</i> </p><p>
  <i>Not when I can’t give the same to you.</i>
</p><p>The vampire awkwardly rubbed his arm, “I don’t know what I did to deserve all this,” he started, “but I’m beyond grateful. I’ll keep helping you as much as I can, however I can.”</p><p>“You’re always helping me, Kirk.” The gentleness with which Hernan looked at Kirk sent him into a silent torrent of disbelief. He almost wanted to look behind him, see if there was another person such a look was meant for. Just as it appeared it was gone, replaced with a fitting smirk. “But it’ll be nice to have a sidekick.”</p><p>Kirk snapped out of it. “You mean <i>partner.</i>”</p><p>“We’ll see.” Hernan gave him a playful shove, making light of things as came so easily to him. As he laughed, Kirk found that spark returning within him. That desire to challenge his circumstances. To silence the dark in him. It was exhilarating. His humanity crawled to the surface, basking in the light that the Kryptonian exuded. It was warm, inviting, everything that Hernan turned out to be. </p><p>A god and a monster, finding the human in themselves.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kirk's night was supposed to go smooth. Kirk's night doesn't go as expected.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Stop, in the name of the law!” </p><p>Batman evaded oncoming fire, helicopter lights glaring down at him from above. His senses were overloaded. The roar of the craft. The clamoring of the officers. The billowing smoke behind him. How did the saying go? Out of the frying pan and into the fire? </p><p>This was <i>one</i> way to start the evening.</p><p>His black silhouette hopped across building tops, goggled eyes tracking the bullets in his wake. </p><p>It was just over a week later. He was all bat now, clad in his new identity. If only there was room to enjoy it.</p><p>He was unfortunate enough to get caught at a fresh crime scene. He studied the odd cases he could, as deaths in Gotham were seldom natural. Had to get to know the violence he was going toe-to-toe with. Of course, the police force pinned it on him, and he had no option but to run. The truth hardly mattered at this point; his roster of enemies and condemners grew by the day. They wanted what they wanted, which was him in custody. Or dead. But he did this for the answers, and for the people those answers would help save.</p><p>This time, they came at him hard. Team formations on the ground and in the air, armor, the works. It was clear the Commissioner was determined to nail him, one way or the other. A bullet grazed his ankle. Luckily, his batsuit was laced with a thin but efficient armor. He dove between buildings where the light couldn’t reach, landing on an old dumpster below. The ground team charged in, boots scraping the puddled ground. Even he couldn’t dodge all those bullets. The leader stepped forth, calling in.</p><p>“Yeah, this is officer Gomez. Tell the Commish we got Batman cornered.”</p><p>Batman looked up. The helicopter awaited him along with a number of officers lining the rooftops. Too many lights shone in his eyes. His vision switched to infrared, a blotted mess of orange and yellow lined before him.</p><p>“Well? Got anything to say for yourself, Batfreak?”</p><p>He pondered refuting his involvement with the murder. But… no. It would get him nowhere. He thought about calling for help, but getting Hernan involved in this manhunt seemed… silly. If he couldn’t handle the backlash of his own city, how could he handle the world’s? “I get it.” He loosened his balled fists, exhaling through his nose. “You’re just doing your job. I’m just doing mine.” In one powerful bound, he was up and against the alley wall, erratically hopping between one wall and the other over the officers’ heads. It made him a hard target, and he avoided any bullets shot his way. The roof team wouldn’t dare shoot down at their own. </p><p>He touched down around the corner and onto the street, greeted by the screeching tires of a police car. The vehicle hit him hard enough to knock him back and onto the cool asphalt. The sound of slamming doors crashed into his ears. Blinking away the daze, he steeled himself and stood, ready for whatever brutality awaited him. No such thing came.</p><p>Instead there was a voice. A voice he hadn’t heard in a year. </p><p>“My god… Is it really you, Kirk?”</p><p>“T…Tina??” </p><p>Blonde hair wisped in the chilling breeze, bated breath between them. So many unspoken words. So many lost hours. His friend. His dear friend. He dared to take a step forward. The moment was ripped away with a swift pain. In his neck. He pulled it out. Stared at it. A needle. He felt himself go down. He heard the footsteps approaching. </p><p>He heard nothing else.</p><p>…</p><p>“…aking up.”</p><p>“…secure the restraints…”</p><p>“Can’t believe… really…”</p><p>Kirk jolted awake, chin lifting from his chest. The light was harsh and the air was stale, and as he went to stand, he found himself unable to move. His hands were chained behind his back around his seat. His legs were cuffed together. Red goggles sat untouched in the center of the table. In front of a large, mirror-like window was an armed guard who stared him down, hand just above her weapon. An interrogation room. Before panic, there was anger. But as soon as he began his struggling, he stopped. Tina was there as well, standing and watching near the door. His eyes lit up.</p><p>“Tina…”</p><p> </p><p>Wistful, crimson eyes stared long. He missed her dearly, with no time to express it. “What’s… going on?”</p><p>Her eyes held a permanent sadness. It shattered his heart like nothing else. “This was the only way,” she said. “You kept running. We kept losing you.” She reached out, placed her hand on his unmasked face. “God, Kirk… You’re so cold.” </p><p>He could barely look at her. “I got used to it.”</p><p>“But you shouldn’t have to.” She pulled away, fingers lacing together over the table. She spoke as steadily as she could, lip trembling. “I can only imagine the hell this past year has been for you. Struggling to survive. Being forced to… kill. You were never that kind of person. We can find a cure. But you have to stay put. You have to comply. With the police. With the Commissioner.”</p><p>The chains clattered and clanked as the vampire shifted his weight, strands of now-black hair falling over his face. Good intentions. Good intentions and misplaced acts of love. “This police station isn’t where I’ll get the help I need. They’re gonna treat me like the monster they believe I am.”</p><p>“That’s not true. You have to trust me.”</p><p>“Believe me, Tina, you’re the only one I trust here. But I can’t stay. It’s too dangerous.”</p><p>“Dangerous for who, exactly?”</p><p>He shrank and bowed his head, hiding from the glaring reality sitting across from him. “…You know, I actually… rehearsed what I would say if I somehow ever saw you or Will again. Figures it’d be here.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, where is Will?”</p><p>“He… doesn’t want to come in right now.” </p><p>“Why, am I too horrifying?”</p><p>“It’s not that, it’s… He’s really hurt, Kirk. We both are.”</p><p>“I left so you two <i>wouldn’t</i> get hurt.”</p><p>“You leaving DID hurt us.” That same, stern tone rose in Tina’s voice, the one he remembered. He finally looked up and into her face, saw the many months of pain he’d put her through. Paralyzed by his own fears. His own delusions. He was blind to what that could have done to her. To Will. The niceties and warmth of the not-so-distant past seemed so far removed now. He was crushed by the weight of his own shame. </p><p>
  <i>Coward.</i>
</p><p>“I’m sorry,” he half-whispered. “I took away your choice. But in the beginning, I had no clue what was happening to me, and once I knew, I… couldn’t let you see me that way.”</p><p>
  <i>You are what you are.</i>
</p><p>The guard stepped forward, reminding them both of her presence, and Tina gave a large sigh. She leaned in, blinked slowly.</p><p>“I understand. And this wasn’t your fault. But what you’re doing isn’t exactly legal, and you have to answer for it.”</p><p>“You say that as if I haven’t been saving lives along the way. That’s all I’ve been trying to do.”</p><p>
  <i>Liar.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Admit it.</i>
</p><p>“Just look at the people I’ve taken down. They’re crime lords and serial killers and psychopaths. They deserved what they got. Why else would I go after them??”</p><p>
  <i>ADMIT IT.</i>
</p><p>“QUIET!!”</p><p>In an instant, the guard’s gun was trained on him, cocked and ready. Tina recoiled in her seat, some of the color lost from her face. “Kirk…”</p><p>The vampire’s shoulders heaved and fell with ire, the red rage in his eyes quickly melting to regret. He became small in his seat, bowing his head. “That… That wasn’t…” He helplessly looked between the two women in the room, sensing their fear. “I didn’t mean that,” he half-whispered. “I didn’t.” A few moments passed before Tina hesitantly reached over, fingers trembling. Kirk flinched with nowhere to go, and despite the guard’s ill advisement, she placed her hand on his chest. </p><p>“There’s still a beating heart there. I still see you in your eyes. So I know you’re fighting this thing. But you can’t do it alone. The Commissioner wants to speak with you about tonight’s murder.”</p><p>“I didn’t kill that man.”</p><p>“Maybe you didn’t, Kirk. But what about all the other casualties?”</p><p>“I—”</p><p>“—We found some good lawyer options. You’re clearly sick, so that works in your favor, but like I said… you need to comply. I know that may be hard, but I’m here for you… as long as you can meet me halfway.”</p><p>“Sounds like a fair deal to me,” chimed the security officer. “I’d take it.”</p><p>Kirk glared up at the officer, quickly deciding he didn’t want to hear anything else from her. Of course, she was only doing her job, but that wasn’t enough for him. Not right now. He just…needed to think. His head was still foggy from whatever sedative they shot him with. And however long he’d been out, it was time away from one very necessary thing.</p><p>“Whoever’s listening out there, I’m hungry. I won’t be cooperative for much longer.” There was no response, and he sighed. “That’s not a threat. It’s the truth.”</p><p>Again, silence prevailed. It dragged on a few more seconds before a voice came over the speaker. “Officer Kelly, proceed.”</p><p>The armed woman cautiously approached, lifting the pocket flap of her vest to reveal a blood bag. “If you try anything, I swear…”</p><p>Kirk would have felt shame in Tina seeing him like this, but he was much too preoccupied with cursed anticipation. His dagger-like fangs descended. Before he could sink his teeth into the bag, however, muffled commotion outside the door drew everyone’s attention. There was gunfire, the unfortunate sound of ricochet, and short-lived shouts. The door was pushed open, and the guard’s gun was bent and useless before she could process who stood before her. Superman said nothing, glancing almost knowingly at Tina. Will ran into the room, mouth agape.</p><p>Kirk was speechless as well, watching as he approached and breathed ice onto the metal binding his hands and legs. They broke easily. Once free, Kirk  looked up at Will and Will stared right back, arms moving protectively around Tina. </p><p>“Interesting new friends you made, huh, Kirk?” The words came out harsh and cutting, and he had no rebuttal.</p><p>“Tina and Will, I presume.” Superman set his sights on the couple, brow raising. They said nothing, eyes wide with uncertainty. “I wish we didn’t have to meet like this. But, while I’m here, you should know that Kirk isn’t a criminal. Not by any moral standards, at least. He does what he has to, and he’s saved a lot of people. Maybe give him some credit.” The Kryptonian strolled out of the small room and past the fear-stricken officers. </p><p>Kirk stared after him for a moment before pulling his cowl over his face. He retrieved his goggles, hiding his sad eyes behind their ruby lens. “I will find a cure,” he said, “but I have to do it my way. I’m sorry.” With those parting words, he bound for the exit as well, pushing down the adamant ache in his heart. </p><p>He caught up with Superman, who awaited him in the air. The buildings and the world below shrank as they ascended, and for a moment, the evening’s biting cold took him by surprise. A pair of faux wings sprouted from his outstretched arms, and he glided with far less effort. “Thanks for the rescue,” he started. “How’d you know I was there?”</p><p>Superman stared ahead as they pushed through the empty night sky. “I heard whisperings of a manhunt. And by ‘whisperings’ I mean the whole goddamned police force racing through the city. They got it bad for you.”</p><p>“I guess they do. Doesn’t feel too great.” He rubbed at his still-tender neck, recalling the pain of earlier. “Luckily, you’re in the picture,” he added absently, staring at the starry lights below.</p><p>“What was that?” Superman looked over at him, a hint of a smile on his lips. </p><p>“I… Nothing.”</p><p>“So he <i>can</i> say nice things. How sweet.”</p><p>Kirk scoffed. “As if you’re so hard pressed for positive attention.”</p><p>“I am, actually.” The Kryptonian drifted closer. “Compliment me more.”</p><p>The pointy-eared vigilante couldn’t fight the small chuckle that escaped him. He heard Hernan’s laughter join his own, and the tension within him abated ever so gently.</p><p>He also felt something else, something incessant and growing. Something that reminded him once more of all he pushed down as of recent. He slowed, trying to make sense of the senseless.</p><p>An attempt to steady the mind, tame the heart, all for naught. He was certain now. There was something there for Hernan. Something beyond gratitude. Something beyond the banter and camaraderie. Beyond the bloodlust. His contained panic did nothing to keep the sun-powered god none the wiser. He slowed too, staring at him with curiosity.</p><p>Those eyes. Ceaselessly bright, unendingly dark. Why this man offered him his time, his kindness, he didn’t know. But he didn’t want to be without it. </p><p>“You alright, Kirk?”</p><p>Kirk swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I’m fine.”</p><p>Hernan’s doubtful gaze was unwavering on the man who refused to look at him. “…You’re lying.”</p><p>Kirk stopped flying altogether, wings retracting. “I’m not lying.”</p><p>“And you’re bad at it, too.”</p><p>Kirk said nothing. The Kryptonian always had a retort, and he didn’t have the energy to counter them. Of course he was lying. These kinds of things only led to dead ends. Especially this kind of thing. </p><p>Just then, his breath was locked in his chest as the blue-eyed charmer reached over and rested his hands on his shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. The warmth of his touch was strangely chilling. </p><p>And then, a pair of strong arms embraced Kirk. And then, the vampire relaxed as the seconds ticked past. And then, his own arms slowly moved up and around the Kryptonian. A wall was broken. Kirk didn’t want to fix it. </p><p>He didn’t know how long it lasted. He was much too in the moment. But he felt the cold rushing back as Hernan gently pulled away. </p><p>“They’ll get it.” Hernan had a gentle expression on his night-cloaked face. “One day soon, they’ll get it.” </p><p>Little did he know that behind those ruby lens, yearning eyes stared back at him. </p><p>Kirk nodded despite this, finally catching on to the reason behind Hernan’s gesture. Though he wasn’t too optimistic about the situation, he, too, indulged in the idea of things being repaired with him and his closest friends. “I hope so,” he responded honestly.</p><p>He couldn’t blame them for whatever they thought of him after tonight. It was hard to keep his impulses in check. It was even harder to do so around those who knew him before it all. He had all sorts of tells when he struggled; a trained eye was all that was necessary to pick him apart. He hoped Hernan’s eye wasn’t that well trained; right now, he was indeed struggling.</p><p>He thought to himself now. Was he not the voice that coaxed him to do the unthinkable? Yes, he accepted. Yes, he was the voice, and for the moment he humored that voice, pondered what it would be like to be at the mercy of it. Right now he didn’t want to care. He wanted that reckless abandon. But instead he had a bleeding heart and an overactive mind.</p><p>“Hernan,” he managed, voice faint.</p><p>Hernan tilted his head, tucking his hands into his jacket pockets. “Yeah?”</p><p>
  <i>Let me bite you.</i>
</p><p>His mouth opened. It shut. Where did that come from? The sudden thought surprised him, startled him. But then he realized. “You smell the same.”</p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>“The same as the other day… Like you’ve been bleeding.” Kirk drew close to him, a bit too dazed to think anything of it. In one smooth gesture, he took Hernan’s wrist and pushed up his sleeve to the bend of his arm. “Here,” he hummed. Sure enough, there was a visible mark there.</p><p>The Kryptonian raised a brow. “Whoa, I… didn’t think you could notice something like that.” Almost shamefully, he took his arm back and pulled the sleeve back down with an averted gaze.</p><p>The vampire stayed quiet and stayed close, simply awaiting an explanation. Thankfully, the other relented.</p><p>“There are some blood tests being run for me. I have to be weakened for anything to pierce my skin.”</p><p>Kirk’s expression turned to worry. “I don’t understand… Is there something wrong?”</p><p>“Not exactly...” Hernan sighed heavily, his discomfort a rare sight. “Since when did this turn into you picking <i>my</i> brain?”</p><p>Kirk had to admit, it was a nice position to be in. This time, he could turn the microscope on Hernan, call his bluff. He turned his nervous energy into something else with the help of his less-inhibited side. “I think it’s long overdue. Maybe I can help.”</p><p>“Maybe I’m fine.”</p><p>“Maybe you’re pretending.” </p><p>“Well, you’re wrong, so...” </p><p>The sun-god cracked a smile, not at all fooling the vampire. But he’d let him have this… if only to avoid doing something entirely stupid. Fangs prominent and gleaming, a bit of control slipped through his fingers. He drew even closer to the other, tasting the air with a soft inhale before quietly answering, “Whatever.” </p><p>He turned and flew ahead while he still had the willpower, letting the other know he wanted to go on alone. It wasn’t wise to stay in one area too long, anyway, considering the night he just had. The wind screamed past his ears, and it was hard to hear whatever it was Hernan said to him. </p><p>He decided not to wonder.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kirk sets out to make long overdue amends with a friend.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How’d you get in here?”</p><p>“You keep the kitchen window cracked for fresh air.” </p><p>“Right. Damn it.” There was a pull from a pipe. A puff of smoke. A cloud of grey billowed forth, cloaking a painful stare. “I forgot you know me.”</p><p>Red goggles gleamed in the soft light of a living room lamp. Kirk sat on the arm of a leather sofa, chin in hand. A ruminating Will Magnus sat across from him, drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. “How’d you get past the patrol cars?” He drew from the pipe once more, watching his pale intruder intently.</p><p>“I’m fast and I’m light on my feet. They don’t see what they don’t see.”</p><p>“Ah.” Will scooped up a glass of wine, swirling it gently before bringing it to his lips. “So why’re you here?”</p><p>“What do you mean ‘why?’” Kirk shifted himself. “You’re obviously pissed and I want to clear the air.”</p><p>“Oh.” Will gave a bitter laugh, thick brows furrowing. “Really? <i>Now?</i>” The glass was set down a little harder than was necessary, and the man stood. </p><p>“All this time. We thought you were dead and gone all this time. We waited for that dreadful call, some kind of closure after months and months of nothing. But no body turned up. No reports. We mourned you.” Will paused, shoulders dropping with a sigh. “Then, one night, completely by chance, Tina spots you. She follows you just long enough to make sure and comes home to give me the news. She saw how you’d changed, Kirk. And she’s better than me. All she wanted was for you to come back. I wanted answers.” His voice began to falter, notes of anger and grief that were so unlike him creeping in. Kirk couldn’t close his ears. He did this to him. To her. “You abandon the people who care about you the most, the people who could help you the most… And the first person you think to go to is <i>Superman??</i>”</p><p>“He came to me, Will,” Kirk corrected. “I didn’t seek him or anybody out. I thought that if I came back…”</p><p>“What? That you would kill us?”</p><p>Kirk’s jaw clenched, leg bouncing. “I… Anything could’ve happened back then. I didn’t know what was happening to me. It wasn’t worth the risk.”</p><p>Will pointed his pipe at him, eyes burning. “BULLSHIT. You could’ve called, Kirk. Written a goddamned letter. Maybe we would’ve known how to fix this BEFORE you became a wanted man. But you didn’t trust us. You didn’t trust me.”</p><p>“That’s not—”</p><p>“—You didn’t trust me to help you because you already gave up on yourself.” Will stood in front of him now, the beginnings of tears welling in his eyes. “If cancer didn’t stop you, how the hell did you let this?? Clearly, I’m not dead yet. But you were fine believing this thing already beat you. And that pisses me off more than anything.”</p><p>Silent, the vampire removed his goggles and pulled back his mask. His expression mirrored Will’s, a thorny pain taking root in his heart. The air was thick and heavy, and it seemed Will refused to let the tears fall. Perhaps he cried too many times already. “I’m sorry,” Kirk choked out. He felt a cool tear slip down his own cheek. “I know I hurt you both, and I never meant to, but this thing was sewn into me from the start. When it comes to my hunger, everyone is fair game. If I reached out, I knew I wouldn’t have been strong enough to stay away. And what then?” His voice rose with emotion. “I was scared. So scared that I didn’t give myself the chance. If I did that, if I somehow lost control…” </p><p>“Kirk,” Will interjected, “I get that, but… you <i>have</i> lost control. You’ve killed people.”</p><p>Kirk’s hand balled into a tight fist, a mild pain pressing into his palm. He spoke with hardly any inflection now, cold and nearly monotone as he wiped away his tears. “You have no idea what this year was like for me. I have lived with nothing and no one, I have feasted on filthy creatures to survive. I saw the city for what it was and just how sick people can be when they think no one’s watching. So yeah. I did something about it.” He stood as well, just a bit taller than his estranged friend. “This isn’t some black-and-white situation. I’m not especially proud of what I’ve done, but I know it makes Gotham safer. I know that women and children are less likely to get snatched off the street, never seen or heard from again. Maybe what I do isn’t as pretty as everyone needs it to be. But I’ve made use of the bloodlust the only way I know how. The only way that makes sense.”</p><p>Will gaped at him, a mixture of disbelief and fear in his eyes, but he said nothing. The vampire’s voice softened with a different pain. All stoicism melted away.</p><p>“I’m not trying to scare you, Will. I’m really not. I just need you to understand. So please. Please don’t look at me the way everyone else does. I need you. I need Tina. And maybe that’s selfish.” He sighed. “Maybe I’m selfish…” </p><p>To his surprise, his friend pulled him into a hug. He hardly resisted, feeling himself tremble with the sudden contact. His eyes shut tight and he didn’t make a sound. </p><p>“Damn it, Kirk…” said Will with a laughing sob, “you’re lucky I don’t have any garlic.”</p><p>“I guess I am,” Kirk chuckled, sniffled. “I mean, that’s not how this works, but I’d definitely still get sick if you made me eat it.” </p><p>Will pulled back and took a puff from his pipe. “So you can’t eat anything? At all?”</p><p>“Nope.” Kirk stared at the floor with a sigh. “My body rejects everything. It all tastes like… I don’t know. I wish I wanted something else. Like sushi. Hm. Or a sundae.’’ He glanced at his friend’s hand, noticing the gold wedding band. It brought a somber smile to his face. “…I see you two tied the knot. When was the wedding?”</p><p>Will was about to answer when there was a knock at the door. “Shit. Hide. Now.”</p><p>Kirk said no more, scooping up his goggles and flying up the stairs. He listened from the shadows, back against the hallway wall.</p><p>“Hello, Officer.”</p><p>“Hey, uh, it’s pretty late and I noticed your lights were on. Is everything alright?”</p><p>“Of course, Officer. I’m waiting for a call from my wife. She’s out of town for the weekend.”</p><p>“Ah. That explains it.” There was a pause. “You wouldn’t mind if I took a look around, then, would you?”</p><p>“Not without a warrant, Officer.”</p><p>“You ARE aware that you and your wife are the only two people who have been in recent contact with a known criminal, yes?”</p><p>“I’m aware.” </p><p>“And you ARE aware how that may appear to law enforcement, considering he escaped?”</p><p>“You’re forgetting that Superman was also present, Officer. We had nothing to do with that.”</p><p>“Maybe not. But you were close friends with this ‘Batman.’ He may be using your property as refuge, whether you’re aware of it or not. We can’t leave any stone unturned. He’s slippery like that. So the best thing for you to do right now is comply. Now can you please step aside.”</p><p>Kirk heard Will sigh. </p><p>“Just make it quick.”</p><p>The officer searched all of downstairs, opening pantry doors and closets and checking behind furniture until he was satisfied. Then Kirk heard the creak of the stairs. He was already in the bedroom, lifting the window as quickly and quietly as possible to slip through. After shutting it, he pressed himself against the vertical of the house, hoping the man heard nothing. The light came on in the room, and he considered dropping down to the ground. But after a few minutes, the light went back off, and the coast seemed clear. He waited a few moments before peeking around the corner of the building, watching the officer return to his car. With a sigh, he went back inside, meeting his friend downstairs. Will simply shrugged, a defeated look on his face.</p><p>“…I’m assuming this has been going on since that night?”</p><p>“Yup. The police have it in their heads that we’re co-conspirators. They’ve been on our case nearly nonstop. It’s borderline unlawful.”</p><p>“It IS unlawful.” He held his chin in thought, red eyes glazing over the front door. “I need to fix this.”</p><p>“Not to burst your bubble, but the police aren’t exactly looking to negotiate with you.”</p><p>“And I’m not looking to negotiate with them.” Kirk pulled his mask and goggles back over his face. “What I’ve done is what I’ve done. You two weren’t meant to get caught in the middle.”</p><p>“Kirk,” Will started as he reached for his forgotten glass of wine, “you don’t have to protect us. Really. We’re not the ones getting shot at.”</p><p>“Yeah, but…”</p><p>“But nothing. Things’ll mellow out for us once they have another lead to latch onto. But you… you’ve got a lot going on, apparently.” He threw back the rest of the wine, gesturing loosely. “The entire city’s against you, but you managed to get that big, blue powerhouse on your side. How?”</p><p>Kirk wondered that himself. “Honestly? I couldn’t tell you. He just… trusts me, I guess. To do what, I’m not sure. Maybe to listen, maybe to be unjudging...” The creak of the floorboards sounded as Will briefly slipped into the kitchen. Kirk continued. “He helped me. He saved my life. I just don’t know how I help him.” His eyes softened, and he glanced up to find Will giving him the strangest look. “...What?”</p><p>“I dunno, you just seem… Forget it. I’m just glad someone’s been watching your back.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Kirk looked away for a moment, paused. “…What do you make of him?”</p><p>“I think you know what I make of him.” Will parted his blinds with a finger, peeking out at the car on the other side of the street. “He’s an overpowered, self-important a-hole with a twisted Messiah complex. He bulldozes through cities and expects people to thank him for it.” </p><p>“Mm,” Kirk hummed, holding his tongue. “Okay.”</p><p>“…But what do I know?” Will added, shrugged, “I’m not friends with the guy.”</p><p>“Oh, come on, Will.”</p><p>“No, no, he saved you, right? That’s gotta count for something.” The nanoscientist gave a terse sigh. “I just wanna know that you’ll <i>stay</i> safe.”</p><p>Even now.</p><p>Even now, Will wanted to protect him. He was his brother in every way except by blood; it’d been that way from the start. Always the loud one. The boisterous one. The one ready to fight. And Kirk let him. He let him fight his battles, even the imaginary ones, and for the most part, Kirk was fine with it. In fact, he appreciated it. He wasn’t much of a speaker growing up; his joys were in his work. Always working. Always… fixated. Will was the complete opposite. A finger in every pie. A place in every circle. A total socialite. He and Tina dragged him into the light, showed him something he thought wasn’t meant to be his:</p><p>A sense of belonging.</p><p>But those days didn’t exist anymore. He belonged less than ever, and still, Will was talking to him. Trying to protect him. The corner of his mouth creased upward. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I don’t die that easy.”</p><p>…</p><p>Kirk and Will spent the next two or so hours catching up, reminiscing, even getting Tina on the phone. It took Will nearly 10 minutes to convince her that Kirk was really there with him. The vampire explained himself, pleaded for her forgiveness. He didn’t want to lean on them too hard, but he also missed the sound of their voices. Their presence.</p><p>He just… missed them.</p><p>This was a new burden on the couple, but it was one they were willing to bear. “Look, if you’re not going the recommended route,” said Tina, “at least let us work with you and see what went wrong with the formula.”</p><p>“I’ve been looking for something new to tackle,” chimed Will.</p><p>The vampire thought to himself. It’d been ages since he last ran tests on himself; the things he did manage in his new lab/quarters didn’t show him anything he didn’t already know. He knew his metabolism spiked around 400%, and that his blood was now incompatible with every other type. He knew he had a heightened resistance to pathogens and diseases and that his saliva had anticoagulative properties. But that was where it ended. It didn’t explain how this happened. Was it the fault of the nanobots, or the bat enzymes? It wasn’t something he could figure out without help.</p><p>“I’d like that,” he said, staring into the light of the phone.</p><p>Kirk laughed more in those two hours than he had in a long time. He felt… whole again, though the air of caution never left. Things were different now, but it wasn’t so terrifying anymore. He eked out a sliver of normalcy for himself, despite the dark corners of his psyche. They couldn’t consume him now. Not in the presence of longstanding friendship. As Will and Tina talked, he stepped away to feed, a few vials hidden in the pockets of the belt he added to the suit. He thought as little of it as possible, drowning out the action by focusing on his dear friends’ voices in the other room.</p><p>Things were certainly different now, but at least life had its joys again.</p>
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<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Kirk spends a day out in the open with his two closest friends, and another day avoiding the Kryptonian.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The night after Kirk’s reconciliation, he was met with warmth in the cold night. Hernan took it upon himself to tag along on one of the vampire’s investigations. </p><p>Apparently, the leader of the group that tracked him down finally broke and went to the police. Word had it that he “felt safer there than anywhere.” But what concerned Batman about that was the sudden silence of nearly all the sordid groups he’d identified. Two Face was off the grid, and there was no new news on the “Ghul” character mentioned to him before. It was as if they discussed things amongst themselves, agreed to lay low. He scrubbed known meetup locations for anything that may hint at why. Right now, he and Hernan slipped into a hole-in-the-wall near midtown, a place often marked for activity.</p><p>“You’re going to see Tina and Will tomorrow, right?” Hernan asked from across the dark room.</p><p>Kirk lifted tarp from an abandoned chair. “Yep.”</p><p>The Kryptonian quietly opened the drawers lined against the wall. “So… you patched things up.”</p><p>“Sort of,” said Kirk. “There’s still anger there.” </p><p>“Did they say that?” </p><p>Kirk slid the wooden desk in the corner out of the way. “No.” There was a loose tile under there. His fingers grazed the edge of the tile, stopping at the corner and lifting. It came out easy enough. He set it aside, revealing nothing but an old, crumpled note. In scrawled letters, it read: </p><p><b> <i>“Give everything and lose nothing… forever reborn.”</i></b> </p><p>The Kryptonian joined him at his side, just as confused as he was. “Huh. That a phrase you hear thrown around?”</p><p>“No, never,” the vampire answered, narrowing his eyes. Leaving nothing but a note in a hidden compartment seemed all but intentional. “Not much to go on, but it’s a lead,” he muttered. </p><p>“Wait a minute,” Hernan held up a finger, paused, “I hear something.” He employed his X-ray vision, scanning the room before recognition washed over his face. Quickly, he rushed to the other side of the room, punching a hole through a shoddily plastered part of the wall. He retrieved the small device nestled inside and clasped his hands together tight.</p><p>“Somebody planted a bomb. Timer’s at around fifteen seconds.”</p><p>“What??”</p><p>“It’s alright.”</p><p>“Wait, are you sure you can—”</p><p>“—Sure I’m sure.” Just after those words left him, there was a muffled but just-as-alarming explosion. The room trembled and the furniture rattled. The unaffected sun-god lifted a brow, not breaking eye contact with Kirk. After a few seconds, he parted his hands, plumes of black smoke rising from his upturned palms. He dusted them off without so much as a wince. </p><p>Kirk could do nothing but gawk. His strength was unreal, it was… “Wow.” He immediately collected himself. “…Are you okay?”</p><p>“Right as rain,” said Hernan. “But we should probably leave. I’m sure that woke up a few folks.”</p><p>He was probably right.</p><p>The duo did one more quick sweep of the place before taking off into the cloud-filled night. Tonight, Kirk didn’t detect that same alarming scent from the other. He wanted to speak on it, but something told him Hernan wouldn’t appreciate that. This appearance of strength, though legitimate, had its cracks and faults. There was something under there, something that was all too easy to forget when the man performed the feats he did on the daily. Perhaps he did give up on being understood… but Kirk wanted to understand him anyway.</p><p>Ultimately, they parted ways in the sky, the vampire deciding to stay behind and check a few more landmarks. He insisted he do it alone, for reasons that were both practical and selfish.</p><p>He didn’t quite have the… faculties to deal with these newfound feelings, nor the time. There was always work to do. </p><p>…</p><p>The next day, the sky was a vibrant and icy blue. The roar of a plane passed overhead, trembling the surrounding air. Kirk was led into a small diner; it was one he’d passed often in his days of isolation. His two closest friends made room for him, seated at a booth in the corner of the establishment. Light spilled in through the shuttered windows, soft chatter and the clanking of silverware subtly easing his nerves. Holiday music played quietly over the speakers, adding to the ambiance. He silently sat across from the married couple, glancing around. </p><p>The last time he’d done this… </p><p>He’d have to trust that he’d be better this time.</p><p>The would-be interrogation was a few days behind him now. How Tina and Will managed to convince him to go along with this, he didn’t know. It was almost surreal. Tina held onto him for goodness knows how long when they were finally face to face. Such a contrast from that night at the station. Maybe she was willing to look past certain things. Or maybe she was putting her own reservations aside, like she always did for him. She wasn’t one to give up on loved ones so easily. Honestly, it was a relief for him, and it showed. Whatever he broke between them this past year, he would fix it. Starting with today.</p><p>“Welcome, and what can I get for you three?” Kirk nearly jumped, not hearing the waitress approach. The couple gave their respective orders. When she laid eyes on him, there was no mistaking the glint of fearful curiosity in her eye. Will convinced him not to wear his shades in here; it was the first time he’s ever gone without them in public. He felt naked without them.</p><p>“It’s a rare form of albinism, Miss,” Will spoke up, “if that’s what you’re wondering.”</p><p>“O-oh, please forgive my rudeness.” Her pretty face flushed, shame written over her features.</p><p>“No worries,” Kirk said, clearing his throat. “You’re not the first.”</p><p>“What will you be having today, then, sir?”</p><p>“Just… a glass of water for now, thank you.” </p><p>“Alright then. Coming right up.” And with that, the waitress departed, passing off the orders. Kirk looked over to find two pairs of eyes trained on him. He tensed.</p><p>“I’m fine, ‘’if that’s what you’re wondering.’” He shifted from the plume of light sifting through the blinds, drumming cold fingers atop the wooden table. “Why’d you bring me here, anyway?”</p><p>“A,” Will started, “it’s always smart to hide in plain sight, B, we’re starving, and C, we just wanted to be sure of something.”</p><p>“Sure of what?” Kirk didn’t get an answer. “Oh.” He sighed, leaning his head into his hand. “Like I said, I’m fine.”</p><p>“Just let us know when you’re not, okay?” Tina chimed in, gently taking his hand in hers. </p><p>“Okay.”</p><p>He watched as the couple dug into their food minutes later, watching the condensation build on his glass of ice water. He pushed aside stray strands of hair from his face, holding back a smile. He was glad to have taken this first step, uncertain as he may have been. So far, so good. The food across from him smelled equal parts savory and sweet: gravy and butter and jelly galore. It was a little overwhelming, but he quietly pretended it was appetizing. </p><p>“So,” Tina spoke between chews, “did you bring them?”</p><p>Kirk said nothing, slowly reaching into his inner jacket pocket. In his possession was three small vials — his own blood. He inconspicuously passed it over, slipping the containers into her hand. In one swift movement, she tucked them into her bag with a quiet “thank you.”</p><p>The vampire kept his voice hushed. “Do you really think this is gonna work?”</p><p>“I’ll give it my best shot, that’s for damn sure,” said Will. He forked his medium-well steak and took a bite. “One thing we know for certain is that our combined sciences caused this. If I can successfully isolate the two components that made you… the way you are, then maybe there’s a way to reverse this thing.”</p><p>“Mm. Maybe it’s not about reversing what’s already there so much as adding a third component?” Tina queried. “For all intents and purposes, the cancer is gone, but the formula was clearly incomplete. We could introduce a reengineered group of the nanobots that created the condition in the first place.”</p><p>“That was my first option,” Will nodded, “assuming the nanobots were the catalyst. My second would be—”</p><p>“—Find a way to slow the metabolism down, and gradually denature the mutated cells,” Kirk said. “But it’ll be dangerous.”</p><p>Will blinked. “I… Yeah. How’d you know?”</p><p>“I’ve done a little brainstorming myself. Figured we’d overlap on ideas.” </p><p>“You really do know me, Kirk. Looks like I can’t surprise you anymore.” </p><p>Kirk gave the pair a look, one only they would understand. “You two surprise me plenty.” </p><p>Suddenly, there was the sound of a body hitting the floor, of shattered ceramic, and a pained shout. Kirk faced away from it, but he knew what had happened from the fearful countenance of his friends.</p><p>“Oh, goodness, you okay, Dawn?”</p><p>“Agh, yeah, just tripped over myself. How bad is it?”</p><p>“Bad enough to know you shouldn’t stay sittin’ in all these broken plates! C’mon, honey, let’s get you cleaned up.” Quiet commotion filled the small eatery.</p><p>“Don’t look, Kirk.” Tina was right. He could already smell it from here. If he looked, it would be too real and too difficult not to do anything foolish. He kept his head down, steepling his fingers over the table. Why here, he wondered. Why now? He licked his lips, burning holes in the table. Think about something else, he told himself. Think about anything else.</p><p>“Kirk?” Will whispered. “You okay?”</p><p>The vampire inhaled sharply with a nod. </p><p><i>Just let it pass.</i> </p><p>J<i>ust… breathe.</i></p><p>He did, and he watched his friends’ eyes follow the injured waitress into the kitchen up front. The scent wasn’t so strong now, lost in the sea of various other aromas. He could relax a bit now, and so could they. Eventually people returned to their meals, but Will was completely zoned in on his pale companion. </p><p>Kirk stiffened under Will’s gaze. “…What?” </p><p>“Interesting,” Will started. Tina kept quiet. “Your sense of smell is clearly through the roof; the fact that you could even detect that is insane.” He took a long, generous sip from his iced tea. “So… do the fangs somehow grow longer, or…?” </p><p>Kirk grew self-conscious, hiding his face from any prying eyes outside the booth. “No, actually. They sort of ‘unsheathe’ themselves in response to the… obvious stimuli…” he looked away. “It’s instinctual.” </p><p>“I see,” said Will. There was silence between them, but it didn’t last too long. “…How sharp would you say they are?”</p><p>Stifling a sigh, the vampire gently pressed the tip of his index finger against his pointed tooth, revealing the small drop of blood it drew. “Unbelievably.” Magnus whistled in awe.</p><p>Tina looked uneasy, placing her hand over her husband’s. “Alright, I think you’ve prodded him enough.”</p><p>“What? I think these questions’re pretty harmless,” Magnus said with a shrug. </p><p>If Kirk didn’t know any better, he’d believe Will was getting a kick out of this. Like his favorite bloody drama was now a walking, talking reality. If Kirk didn’t know any better, he’d be pissed, and if he knew even less, he’d get right up and storm out of the diner. But he did know better. This was only ignorance; they’d been apart for a year. He really didn’t know what it was like; he couldn’t expect him to. Of course he’d be curious. So he tucked his anger away, somewhere deep. Somewhere quiet. He put on a show of patience, tucking away his fangs and sipping a tiny bit of his water. Kirk wasn’t much for words as it were; he didn’t need very many to get his point across. Will knew that. It’s why he so easily talked circles around him. Not this time. </p><p>“I know you’ll ask eventually, so I’ll just beat you to it: No, I can’t explain the taste. You wouldn’t get it. All I can say is a part of my mind shuts off when I have it.” He saw the change in the married couple’s expressions.  </p><p>Will had to consciously close his mouth. “So, then how do you do it? How do you put up with it?”</p><p>“I imagine all the innocent people who’d have to put up with it if I didn’t.” Some small part of him was never satisfied. It always wanted something to bite into. There was another part of him that didn’t want this to go away, which was… scary. It didn’t feel like him at all. This, he didn’t share; there was no point in needlessly scaring them. He could already hear Tina’s elevated heartrate, and that was reason enough to seal his lips.</p><p>Will withheld any further questions, calling for the waitress.</p><p>The vampire gazed out at the shrieking brightness of day, sitting with the silence he created. His sensitive eyes took more time to adjust than others, but once he was in it, his vision was sharper than it ever was before. There was still that tiny issue of the sun gently eating away at his sheet-white skin, however. He packed sunscreen everywhere he went; no less than SPF 100+ could keep him comfortable. He quickly reapplied the protectant as the waitress walked over, bright green eyes doing their best not to linger too long on him. She addressed the couple first.</p><p>“I trust you enjoyed our brunch special today.”</p><p>“We have, thank you,” Tina nodded kindly, wiping at the corners of her mouth. Will followed suit, patting his stomach and thanking her for her service.</p><p>“I’m glad to hear it! And, uh…” she turned her attentions to Kirk, “are you sure you don’t want to try something before you go?”</p><p>“Oh, I’ve already eaten. I just wanted somewhere nice to sit with my friends.”</p><p>…</p><p>The day was nearing its end. Hues of orange, violet, pink, and yellow wisped across the darkening sky as Kirk flew silently through city borders, to the one place he couldn’t resist returning to. He didn’t like admitting to this, especially now, since…</p><p>He chose not to think about it.</p><p>Eventually, he laid eyes upon that building; it shimmered in the golden rays of dying light. Gotham gave him purpose. This city gave him refuge. He landed on the roof of the building, entering through the unlocked door. He walked down a few levels before catching an elevator all the way down. No hassle, no questions asked. The facial recognition system made sure of that. The heels of his boots clicked over the tiled floor as he made his way into a silent and comfortable bunker. This was the time Hernan usually wasn’t around, so it was one less thing to concern himself with. No scents reached him here. Nothing to tickle his thirst. Just the quiet ticking and tocking of a clock overhead to keep him company.</p><p>As was ritual, he grabbed a refrigerated blood bag before doing anything else. He drank his fill and made his way into the shower, desiring the comforts of a warm cascade. Water was a relaxing thing, and he could really appreciate it tonight. The questions of why he came here and why certain feelings crept into his heart simply melted away. He ran his fingers through his darkened hair, caring only for now. He hadn’t truly thought about “now” in a long while. It was nice. </p><p>Steam rose from his skin as he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist. He wiped away the fog from the mirror, just simply… observing himself. He wasn’t as skinny as before; his face filled out some and his natural muscle tone returned. He flexed an arm curiously, admiring the strength he felt. His red eyes drifted over his face, his torso, landing on the subtle marks over his abdomen. Oh, yes. The bullets. With how much stronger he felt, he found himself wondering if he’d be just as affected if he were shot again. Still, he didn’t plan on finding out.</p><p>He turned from the mirror. The ordeal seemed so far away now. So much seemed far away. At the same time, there were things that were very much visible in his rearview mirror. There were things and thoughts he couldn’t put down. Daily and nightly, he struggled with certain questions and grappled with what-ifs.</p><p>What if he never tested that formula on himself?</p><p>What if he never put his thirst to good use?</p><p>What if Superman didn’t meet him at the docks that night? </p><p>Perhaps he’d be just as bad as the guys he dealt with. Then again, he was always a thread away from ending up like them, even now. Walking that tightrope was daunting, but a part of him took pride in it, too. Most of the time, his conscience won over wild hunger. Most of the time, he was in charge of himself.</p><p>Most of the time.</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hernan puts his foot down. Kirk needs to hear the truth.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A stirring rod slowly swirled inside a transparent red solution. Attentive eyes watched as the solution turned opaque, becoming more viscous. With a gentle tap on the side of the flask, the rod was removed and placed in a cup of hot water. A PH strip was dipped into the solution after settling, after which there was a satisfied sigh. “Plasma supplement test number nine… Successful.” Now for the hard part.</p><p>A small syringe sampled the solution and a few drops of red fell past hesitant lips.</p><p>“How is it?” asked the Kryptonian.</p><p>“Not… bitter this time,” answered the vampire. It didn’t taste very much like anything, in fact.</p><p>“That’s good, right?”</p><p>“Half good. This’ll take care of my body’s immediate needs, but it probably won’t stop me from wanting the real thing. I’ll have to keep that in check on my own.”</p><p>“But it helps.”</p><p>Kirk conceded. “…But it helps.” He organized all his materials and reviewed his notes, scribbling revisions to the formula on a crinkled piece of paper. He’d worked endlessly on this, sacrificing hours of daylight that could have been spent resting. But science was not without its sweat, tears, and blood. In fact, it invigorated him, took him back to days that would never return. It was all so familiar. The buzz of the lights overhead, the squeak of tiled floor, the clank and clatter of glass and metal. </p><p>It was less than a week before Christmas, and the dregs of the past year grew hazy in the world’s excitement for the festivities. Crime rates dipped considerably around this time, so Batman had a bit of time to rest his wings. A tiny, ornate tree sat at the far end of the desk, colorful lights flashing rhythmically. </p><p>It had been over a week since the two of them spoke. Usually, Kirk would miss the sun-god as he dropped off some extra packs of blood during the day and went on his way. But this time he came at night. And then he stayed. Kirk didn’t look at him once. Instead, he immersed himself in his work, hoping his back would do the talking. </p><p>Eventually, Hernan approached and placed a hand on the back of his chair, peering over his shoulder. Kirk tensed. “So,” he started, “I’m visiting mì hermanita and nephew next week. What’ll be your plans?”</p><p>“Uh, ‘plans?’”</p><p>“Your Christmas plans. For Christmas.”</p><p>“Oh.” Kirk tapped a finger on the desk. Will and Tina were going out-of-state to see family. He left them to it, not wanting to put them on edge. “I haven’t really thought about it. Patrol the city, most likely.”</p><p>“…I see.” Hernan leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms. </p><p>“You don’t sound like you approve.”</p><p>“Oh, no, don’t get me wrong, that’s certainly <i>one</i> way to celebrate…” The Kryptonian examined his neatly trimmed nails, flexed his fingers. “I just think… we could do better.” </p><p>Kirk blinked. “’We?’”</p><p>“Yeah.” The vampire finally looked at the other and immediately regretted it. A very soft, very earnest gaze was directed at him, and blue eyes brightened as they met red. “Come with me.”</p><p>Hernan was doing it. He was charming him. With that voice. With that smile. It robbed him of his intelligence, leaving him a flustered husk of a man for a few moments. He wished the things his unhinged heart whispered weren’t convincing. He wished he didn’t wish at all. Despite all this, he steeled himself, lips pursed in stubborn refrain.</p><p>“Can’t.”</p><p>“You can’t?” Hernan repeated. The flask’s contents shook a bit as the Kryptonian pushed himself off the desk. “And why’s that?”</p><p>“Because,” the vampire stood now, putting on his most aloof face, “I have work to do.” His fingers brushed absently over the table’s cold surface as he stepped away, catching the breadth of his work. “The city needs me.”</p><p>Hernan scoffed. “The city, huh? And what about you?”</p><p>“What <i>about</i> me?” Kirk began to straighten up the area, tools clumsily clattering and clanking as he gathered as much as he could. His hands shook, much to his chagrin and embarrassment, and a different kind of scary was seeded in his mind. He made his way to the sink, using any excuse to get away from the source of his confusion. He washed the same container for far too long, staring at nothing. What about him, indeed. He was only supposed to be something useful. A shadow. Not quite a person anymore. Not with these feelings. </p><p>“You shouldn’t be alone,” Hernan lulled. “Not when you could be having a little fun instead.”</p><p>“Fun? I’m not sure I know what that…” Kirk turned to find Hernan holding out a small towel for him, “is… anymore.” He took it silently.</p><p>“Yeah, I caught that,” Hernan teased, stretching. His burly arms came together above his head and he leaned to one side, then the other. Kirk briefly wondered if he could even get sore. He watched him shut his eyes, give a satisfied sigh as he stretched his deltoids. “I’m not letting you spend Christmas alone, Kirk. You know that, right?”</p><p>“Good luck getting me there.” The vampire walked past him, throwing the towel over his shoulder. </p><p>“It'd be fairly easy.”</p><p>“I don’t care.”</p><p>And then Hernan laughed. His shoulders shook with amusement that seemed genuine. What he found funny, Kirk didn’t understand. He was as serious as he could be, as immovable and explicit as he could manage. Then again, words of indifference meant nothing to the man who could break the world. Who could break him. He could do these things, yet he was so gentle, so human. It was seductive, drawing the vampire back to him, and to things that reminded him of a life that only existed in retrospect. Self-destroying whispers were forgotten in his presence.</p><p>He had no business yearning for such things. And yet he did, over and over again, like a fool. He needed it. He just did. But Hernan couldn’t know that. It would change things too much between them, and he rather enjoyed what they had. Nothing with hints of something. He exhaled audibly from his nose, reaching for the synthetic plasma, choosing not to respond to the other.</p><p>And then his feet were swept from under him. </p><p>He fell gracelessly before he could even grab the flask. </p><p>Kirk stared up at the other confusedly. He had no time to question him, rolling over to dodge the brunt of his heel. He stood again, but before he could gain his bearings, the Kryptonian rushed him with incomprehensible speed. Too slow to react, his arms were folded behind his back, a voice rumbling in his ear. </p><p>“Like I said. Easy.”  </p><p>“Hernan, what the hell??” The vampire leapt, tilting his weight backwards. His arms were free as his feet launched off the Kryptonian’s shoulders and landed on the polished floor behind him in a perfect backflip. Hernan offered a smile, the kind that only got under his skin. </p><p>“You’re really dead set on fighting the whole way, aren’t you?”</p><p>“…Don’t know what you mean, since you’re the one attacking.”</p><p>“Sure, I’m attacking you… But maybe that’s the only way to truly get through to you.” Kirk rolled his eyes. “You still believe you can only earn peace through a struggle,” spoke Hernan from behind. The vampire whirled around, reflexively lunging a hand forward to strike. It was caught with ease. Warm fingers slid down a cool wrist, both gentle and firm. “Every day, every moment’s a fight, right?”</p><p>Kirk didn’t look at him now. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”</p><p>“I think I do.” The Kryptonian raised a thick brow in thought. “When you let down your defenses, you’re met with something scary, aren’t you? You’re afraid to want and have things. Because maybe wanting what everyday people have is ‘wrong.’” </p><p>Kirk’s expression darkened into a grimace. “Stop it.” The walls closed around him, and for a split second, he sought the cold familiarity of the silent streets. Being seen like this… he couldn’t take it. He took his hand back, giving the other a shove for good measure. Hernan’s unbothered countenance prevailed. </p><p>“You’ve been especially cold with me. Maybe deep down you know that I actually give a damn. Maybe you see it and you have to look away. It makes all the things you’re telling yourself easier to believe.”</p><p>“What do you wanna hear, that you’re <i>right?</i>” Kirk swiped at him, blinded by the agony of truth laid bare. In one swift and controlled movement, the Kryptonian redirected the motion of his attack, pinning his arm to the chrome-colored wall behind him. Kirk’s eyes burned into him, dagger-like fangs peeking beneath frowning lips. He made no move to escape, knowing it would be fruitless.</p><p>“I want to hear that you’ll try and let me in.” His azure eyes softened once more, a crack in the armor. “There’s no threat here, Kirk. I just wanna help. I wish you would get that.”</p><p>“…Why is that, exactly?” The vampire couldn’t hide the change in inflection in his voice. That tinge of weakness. That note of vulnerability. “Why do you care?” He kept his gaze sideward, quietly fearing for the answer.</p><p>“How can’t I? I like you too much.” Smiling, Hernan opened his mouth to say more, but he stopped himself. Instead, he released his grip on the other, stepped back and waited a beat before speaking again. “I don’t care what you are or what you drink to survive. There’s more to you than that. Adaptable, impulsado, dispuesto. You’re adaptable, you’re willing, you’re driven in ways I may not be. I like watching you work.”</p><p>Kirk broke despite himself, drawing his gaze back to the Kryptonian. “I’m not half as interesting as you say I am.”</p><p>“Really? I’d like to think I have an eye for these things.”</p><p>Kirk scanned Hernan’s handsome features, shamelessly drank him in before catching himself. He blinked, stammered. “But… But I’m…”</p><p>“What?” the other cooed, azure eyes lidded as he stepped forward. “Tell me what you are.”</p><p>Kirk’s heart quickened. His mind scattered itself. He reined himself in. Where did this hope come from? This longing? And when exactly did it begin? Hernan was right… but he wouldn’t let him know it. He wanted, and he was so afraid of it. He was unsure what it would make him do next. And he wanted so many things. He wanted acceptance. He wanted friendship. He wanted… more.</p><p>Just a little more.</p><p>“I’m a <b>mess,</b> Hernan,” he answered honestly. “Just… a mess.” </p><p>Again, Hernan smiled, and again, Kirk didn’t understand why. </p><p>Kirk pushed himself off the cold wall, perturbed. “What?” </p><p>The other took a deep breath, running a hand down his face. The signs of drowsiness grew clearer in his expression, eyes dimming. “Am I really so perfect in your eyes?”</p><p><i>Can’t you tell that I’m a mess, too?</i> Kirk could almost hear him say. There was a subtle desperation there, a silent plea for him to understand Hernan. Maybe he did put him on a pedestal. But how could he not? He tried to see things levelly now. See the human that lived in the Kryptonian. If Hernan could do that for him, Kirk could manage the same. At the end of the day, isn’t that what everyone wanted? To be understood?</p><p>The vampire’s arms wrapped around the sun-god. He said nothing, pale fingers gripping the back of his shirt. All the while, his heart pounded with a unique panic, the irrational fear of all his thoughts and feelings somehow being exposed. He tensed as he felt a pair of arms move around him, and he tried to get past the surrealness of it all. Never in a billion years did he see himself sharing tender moments with anyone again, not with Will or Tina, and least of all Hernan. Yet the Kryptonian all but obliged, unswayed by the things most others would be. </p><p>He didn’t understand it. At this point, he didn’t want to.</p><p>Something was different about this second embrace; something in him was left unchecked, and he only found out as his breath breezed over the crook of his neck. A steady pulse reached his keen ears, and the tantalizing scent he’d come to know wafted endlessly around him. A lid was loose, a cork unscrewed. He breathed him in, the monster uncoiling inside him, rattling against its cage. His jaw clenched.</p><p><i>Calm down.</i> </p><p>He tried. </p><p>His eyes shut. Time slowed to a crawl. </p><p><i>Calm. Down.</i> </p><p>He tried. </p><p>Something so sweet, so close…</p><p>He felt his canines unsheathe in anticipation.</p><p>With a shallow inhale, his lips brushed over his skin and—</p><p><span class="big"> <i>STOP.</i></span> </p><p>Kirk quickly pulled himself away, suppressing a hungry scowl. “Sorry…” </p><p>“What, that little peck?” Hernan chuckled. “It was nice, actually. No one’s been that gentle with me in years.”</p><p>The vampire ignored the heat that rushed to his ears. “I was just about to…” he trailed off, unable to say it.</p><p>The Kryptonian tilted his head. “But you didn’t.”</p><p>Kirk blinked. It really was true; he didn’t have to fight as hard around him. He never did. In a way, that relieved him. In another way, it scared him. It scared him even more that his legs carried him back to close proximity with the other, darkened hair slightly disheveled. Hernan didn’t buckle, that same playful glint in his eye. Kirk didn’t know what he was doing. He chased down that spark in the other’s eyes with his own. Like cat and mouse, this game was without end. The depth of his blue gaze was bottomless; it swallowed him whole. He screamed on the inside as he said nothing on the outside, sealing the space between them with a brief and cold kiss.</p><p>He shuddered a breath, mouth hung ajar as he stared dumbly at the other. The Kryptonian’s face was unreadable, making his stomach drop in the worst way. No, no, no, what did he just DO? His red eyes were wide now, filled with terrible regret. The hunger made him fuzzy, impulsive. Stupid. His voice clawed its way out of his throat, reaching for words of apology when a pair of hands scooped his face. </p><p>Warms lips pressed against his, a steady exhale rumbling in the ears. Hernan’s was a palpable passion, nearly staggering to the pallid vampire. It took him moments to realize what was happening, and it took him but moments to kiss him back, lost in a heart-racing haze. Kirk melted, nearly gasped as the air was sweetly taken from him. He was so gentle, so fiery. So… delicious. And seemingly just as it began, Hernan pulled away, something quite clear in his eye. Something that said, “I’ve wanted to do that for some time now.”</p><p>“Forgive me,” Hernan’s voice was low, striking gaze untrained. He almost seemed… bashful. “I… got a little ahead of myself.”</p><p>Kirk couldn’t find the words. He waited for the wires to uncross in his brain. One way or another, he drove most people away. One way or another. And for the most part, he’d been fine with it, the recluse he was. But somehow, things just weren’t that way anymore. Hernan… <i>wanted</i> him. The revelation shattered his mind to pieces.</p><p>The vampire swallowed, hands clenched at his sides. </p><p>“…Pinch me.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Finally.</p><p>FINALLY. </p><p>(Kept you waiting, huh? Had a lot of fun building up to this moment...)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The time for hiding is over. A god and a monster sit down and have a conversation.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My longest chapter yet! Thanks to everyone who's read this far! You should know that towards the end, the perspective shifts to Hernan's. </p><p>*From this chapter onward, I'll be bouncing between both perspectives instead of just focusing on Kirk's.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Kirk’s head was spinning. It was a sweeter euphoria than any blood he’d tasted. It took him through the night, led him through the morning, and lingered around him as he stumbled his way into late afternoon. Hernan departed soon after their shared revelation the night before. Today, he invited Kirk back to his favorite park downtown.</p><p>They sat on one of the many benches, dressed for the rare occasion. The vampire’s hair was tied into a neat bun, eyes once again unshielded from public view. He tugged apprehensively at his dark turtleneck before taking a swig from his warmed thermos of bland synthetic plasma. Hernan was in rare form, donning a navy-blue button-up shirt and grey khakis. His jacket was unzipped, as he, too, was unbothered by the cold. People were few and far between in this specific area; it was all nature here. The rustling sound of trees were a consistent company, and the broken light of the sun reached the cobblestone path before them.</p><p>“So,” Kirk said, looking over at the other.</p><p>“So,” the Kryptonian said. In his hand was a drink of his own, an untouched hot chocolate. He gently tapped the cup with a finger, wetting his lips. “You look nice.”</p><p>“Thanks,” the vampire spoke steadily, “so do you.”  </p><p>“You have questions.” Hernan was open, sitting lax as he hung an arm over the back of the bench. “Ask away.”</p><p>Kirk swirled his thermos around, almost afraid of his own curiosity. Hernan already saw through it all. “Alright,” he started with a small sigh, “how long exactly have you been…?”</p><p>“Interested? Oh, for a while now.” </p><p>That made the vampire fidget. His heartrate picked up a few paces now. “…That’s not true.”</p><p>Hernan laughed softly. It was a lovely sound, deep and gentle. “You think so?” He brought the steaming drink to his lips as he stared out ahead. “That’s not something I say lightly.”</p><p>“O-oh,” the vampire’s voice shook ever so slightly. “Have you, uh… dated other men before?”</p><p>Hernan couldn’t hold back a smile as he drank, lowering the cup to speak. “I have. You?”</p><p>Kirk shook his head. “No, never.”</p><p>The Kryptonian started his tapping again, shifting his gaze to meet Kirk’s. “…Are you considering it?” He arched a brow, practically stealing the air between them. </p><p>Kirk said nothing; he couldn’t. His heart was pounding in his chest, the noise filling up his ears and drowning out everything else. He looked away, eyes wide and almost innocent as he gripped his knee. He felt a warm hand move over his, grasping it in his own. It brought him back to the present, and just in time for Hernan to gloat. </p><p>“You’re blushing.”</p><p>“I don’t <i>blush,</i>” the vampire half-muttered, now made aware of the warmth building over his cheeks. </p><p>“Ooh,” Hernan lilted, “you have a shy side. I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He straightened in his seat as his expression gently mellowed, his tone a bit more serious. “Hey,” he said, “I don’t want to rush you into things. I never did.” He pulled his hand away, brows raising in a show of calm. “But I do like you.”</p><p>Kirk nervously bit his lip. This was the most human he’d felt to date. It was exciting as his nerves played ping pong with his mind. He had half a mind to drool over the other’s suave approach, another half to deny this was happening at all. “…Last night, I felt like I shed a thousand pounds. I didn’t realize how much I wanted…” he trailed off. The world got a little bigger as he continued, and he felt it easier to breathe. “But I don’t have the best track record with relationships. Of any kind.” He sighed. “I could really mess this up.”</p><p>“Well… so could I.” A bird flew overhead, the pair catching sight of it at the same time. The tree branch shook as it took perch, calling out strongly in the frosted air. “Anyone I’ve ever been with, I could only be half of myself. Superman, or Hernan, it was either all one or the other. This time is different. This time, I’m doing something I’ve never done.” A gust of wind combed through their hair and tugged on their clothes, but the cold was not felt. “The whole thing is clumsy, unpredictable. But that’s the fun of it, I think. Comes with the territory. The ordeal of being known. And I’d like to get to know more of you.” He said this softly, eyes trained on the treetop. </p><p>Kirk had no words to offer. Instead, he decided to take in this moment. Admire the way the golden sunlight fell on Hernan’s raven hair. The serenity and blissful abandon in his expression. The subtle smile on his lips as his entrancing eyes were set skyward. </p><p>The beautiful ordeal of knowing him.</p><p>Kirk had no words to offer. Instead, he dared to inch closer to the other and let his screaming mind go blank. Hernan faced him now, something in the way he stared almost challenging him to do what he will.</p><p>Kirk had no words to offer. Instead, he cupped the side of his face, thumb running along his jaw. He leaned in slowly, savoring the other’s alluring scent. The swirl of cologne and fabric… and forbidden red. Hernan was putty in his hands, lips parted in anticipation. It was a unique sight, and one that delighted him to no end. Finally, he kissed him, cold meeting hot. It was as electric as before, heart racing in his chest as he heard Hernan’s do the same. Was he not the voice that shouted inside, that clamored for more? Yes, he was the voice, and there was no reigning it in. He did not object.</p><p>They pulled away slowly, differently this time. Cold fingers dragged from warm skin. Hernan wore a look of soft awe, lashes veiling a deep affection. </p><p>Kirk smiled, red eyes brightening. </p><p>The peace around them was so surreal; it blotted out the rest of the world, giving him a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. This dominion Hernan had over his heart… The dominion he had over Hernan’s. It squeezed and squeezed at his chest, leaving him quite breathless. He cast his lidded eyes sideward, unable to maintain his gaze. “…Wow,” he softly exclaimed. He could have anyone. Hernan could have anyone in the world, and yet…</p><p>“What is it?” the other asked softly.</p><p>The vampire shook his head, answering. “I just… I had no clue, about this, about you.” </p><p>“Yeah, well,” the Kryptonian clasped a hand on the back of his neck, “I wasn’t about to lay it all on the table when you already had enough on your plate.” He paused. “…Didn’t stop me from flirting, though.”</p><p>Kirk gave him a look of bewilderment. “You flirted with me??”</p><p>“You never noticed?” Hernan finished off his chocolate drink with a satisfied sigh. “Must be losing my edge.”</p><p>No, Kirk thought. He just didn’t want to see it. It kept certain doors closed, hard questions unanswered. The things he didn’t deserve. The things he coveted. He didn’t count on his mind and heart running in opposite directions. And the monster… The monster ran with neither one. </p><p>“Kirk.” Hernan’s voice brought him back to the present. The sun-god glanced up in thought, recollection bringing the subtlest of smiles to his face. “A little while back, I realized you were truly different. Not in what happened to you, or what you needed to survive. Sure, that was a factor, but underneath it all, I sensed this… rawness in you. Something that demanded to be more than what circumstance dictated. You chose to fight your darkness and to refine yourself. It was so goddamn <i>human.</i>” Hernan propped his head up against his hand. “So… attractive to me.” </p><p>The vampire cast his lidded eyes sideward, full of nerves, want, and disbelief. “…What if I lose control one day?”</p><p>“What if you don’t?” The other’s voice grew softer, almost encouraging. “What if you’ve got a better handle on this than you think?”</p><p>“You’re the only person that makes me feel like I do.” The certainty with which Kirk spoke those words surprised even him. But another question came to mind, another that begged for an answer. He looked up, hesitating to ask. Clouds were beginning to gather, and he recalled hearing about a chance for snow sometime tomorrow. The trees’ shade shifted, lending further protection from the sun’s rays. “Last night,” he finally started, “…would you have let me bite you?” </p><p>Hernan tilted his head the way he often did when he heard something he didn’t expect. His quirks weren’t lost on the vampire; he, who cultivated the art of observation, noticed as the sun-god searched for his next words. It was an interesting sight, another peek past that near-impenetrable armor into vulnerability. Leaning back, the one in question fidgeted with his hands, fingers drumming against his cup as he spoke sincerely. “I wasn’t going to stop you.”</p><p>Kirk clenched his jaw, tense. StiII, he reached out, absently moving his fingers around his arm. “You really shouldn’t let me have my way. Not with that.”</p><p>“I’m not turning away from any part of you,” Hernan said, looking over at him. “I can handle you. I can handle what you do.”</p><p>Kirk nodded to himself. “Funny thing is, I know you can.”</p><p>Hernan pursed his lips, lacing his fingers together. “But?”</p><p>“But,” the vampire started, “that’s another thing you shouldn’t do.”</p><p>“What is?”</p><p>“Tempt me.” </p><p>“What can I say? I like to live dangerously.” Hernan crossed a leg, pleased with the other’s gentle laughter. ”It’s my turn to ask you something.“</p><p>Kirk took another, generous sip from his thermos. “Yeah?”</p><p>“You could’ve shot me down when we first met. Why didn’t you?”</p><p>Oh, Kirk thought to himself. <i>That’s easy.</i> But as he mulled more and more over it, the reason wasn’t so clear-cut. It was true. Kirk could’ve turned him away, refused to have anything to do with him once he said his words and left that night. He was, after all, someone he should have feared. But for all his might, he was still a man. “It’s like you said before,” Kirk started, “we’re the same. Maybe some part of me recognized that. It’s why I couldn’t really stop thinking about you…” he trailed off, eyes widening with realization. </p><p>“Oh?” Hernan crooned.</p><p>It was true, wasn’t it? He was wrapped up in his world, ensnared by eyes with a spark and a fiery spirit. He was attracted to all of him: the darkness, the light, the unintelligible… and the undisputed beauty. He looked at him now. He could kiss him ‘til sunset. The vampire quietly threw up his hands in forfeit, no longer wanting to hide. </p><p>“I dunno. You’re just… perfect. I-I mean you’re perfect to me. <i>For</i> me. You gave me what I thought I lost. You dusted off that small piece of humanity I still had left and showed it to me. You took the time to share yourself with me, and… I don’t think I can have anything else.” He paused and glanced at the pavement. “I don’t want to.”</p><p>The Kryptonian all but savored the moment, playing coy. “Are you saying you want me, Dr. Langstrom?”</p><p>Kirk swallowed, all courage leaving him as Hernan lifted his chin with a curled finger. “…Yes…”</p><p>“Well, then,” the other leaned in, pressing another, tender kiss to frigid lips. <i>“Soy tuyo.”</i></p><p>…</p><p>The two spent the rest of the day together. As the sky darkened, they made their way to Hernan’s away-home out of town. The pleasant freshness of forest air soon replaced the subtleties of smog and haze, something real and reminiscent taking over. Right then, there was nothing to give the world, there was nothing to be. Not an alien. Not a monster. They both knew this, and they were both lost in the bliss of finally, <i>finally</i> dropping the mask. Strength was in the letting go. This was the strongest Kirk had been in a long time. As the air crystallized with the dropping temperature, the vampire found it so easy to be honest with himself. </p><p>He wanted this.</p><p>This was all he really wanted.</p><p>He entered Hernan’s home differently now; the walls were no strangers as he walked further inside. He left the horrors at the door.</p><p>“I’d say our first date turned out pretty well,” the Kryptonian hummed, nudging his shoes off at the door. </p><p>“Same time next week?” Kirk quipped, removing his frost-speckled jacket.</p><p>“Ooh,” Hernan feigned an apprehensive hiss, “is that before or after you meet my sister?”</p><p>He shifted his weight to one foot, pushing a dark strand out of his face. “…That’s still happening?”</p><p>“Damn right it is,” the other said, folding his arms. “I told you. I’m not letting you spend Christmas alone.”</p><p>“Oh,“ Kirk said. he wasn’t good around new people, and he didn’t have any gifts to bring, and what if he lost himself and – he stopped; he was sure Hernan had an answer to each of his dreaded what-ifs. In fact, he knew it.</p><p>“Fair enough,” he relented, absently poking a fang with the tip of his tongue. It took him a moment to notice as the Kryptonian approached, the sound of shifting fabric catching his attention. He’d said nothing as he lifted his sleeve, revealing his bare wrist and forearm. From his closeness radiated heat, something the cold in Kirk was drawn to. “Hernan…?”</p><p>“We’ve been out all day. And if <i>I’m</i> hungry…”</p><p>Kirk swallowed. Of course he was hungry. Of course the mere offer coaxed the lengthened sharpness of his fangs. Of course he salivated. “Don’t. I have what I need.” His eyes lingered over his olive skin before drifting over to the black screen of the TV. Just had to go over and turn it on, he told himself. Step away and let it distract him. But his legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. He held his arms over his chest.</p><p>“That bland stuff?” the Kryptonian hummed, smoothly undoing the top three buttons of his shirt. “Fun fact about me, I’m a sensualist.” He tilted his head. “I believe people deserve to let their hair down every once in a while. Run on a longer leash.”</p><p>Red eyes inevitably trailed back to the taller man whose fear was nowhere to be seen. Kirk hated that he agreed with the voice inside, the voice declaring Hernan very, very persuasive. His wrist was offered to him, and he found himself tempted. His neck was offered to him, and the monster was very much present. The carotid artery was one of the easiest routes to the most blood, but anywhere would be fine. Anywhere would be <i>perfect.</i> The deepness of his own eyes was made shallow as he was pulled taut between untamable thirst and longing. “A longer leash for me usually means pain for everyone else...” He said this faintly, fingers gripping the other’s wrist. </p><p>“Trust me. I know what you mean.” Hernan let him lean in closer, cool and shallow breath ghosting over the crook of his neck. </p><p>Keen ears heard a quickened pace of the heart. His slender digits dragged up Hernan’s arm, over his bicep and onto his shoulder. “Hernan, I’m gonna lose control.” He held onto the words he spoke, the only thing tethering him to his rational self. “I don’t want to hurt you.”</p><p>“You won’t.” Hernan toyed with his hair, thoughtlessly twirling a dark lock around his finger. “I trust you.”</p><p>As if those were the words he needed to hear, thought immediately dissolved. Time fizzled away. Pale lips parted and red eyes shut.</p><p>The Kryptonian made a small sound as razor-sharp teeth sank into his skin. A growl rumbled in the vampire’s throat as the first drops fell onto his tongue. His hand instantly gripped at the nape of Hernan’s neck, his feet lifting off the ground. The Kryptonian, too, was lifted in the process, his back pushed against the nearby wall. All the while, Kirk didn’t raise his head from the warm, redolent blood flowing past his lips. He was stuck to abide.</p><p>The Kryptonian winced but was otherwise allowing. The initial sting of getting bitten had ebbed, and all he could really feel was Kirk’s cold lips on his skin. It was hungry, it was tender, very much like a kiss, but more intimate. He didn’t say a word, exhaling softly as Kirk fed. He said it and he meant it: he would not turn from any part of him. </p><p>This part, however, the part that hungered? He understood it vastly. Self-control was everyone’s plight. Don’t snap at this person. Don’t spend that money. Don’t smoke that cigarette. But stakes were inevitably higher for the… unaverage. It wasn’t something to deal with alone. The other’s teeth sank deeper into his skin, and the pain returned. The cold hand at the back of his neck moved to his hair. Pale fingers gripped at dark strands. “Kirk,” he said quietly, brows knitting together. No response. His pallid fingers curled deeper into his hair. “Kirk,” he said again, and he felt the other stiffen, “càlmate.”</p><p>The vampire loosened his bite with a quiet growl, steadily drinking. Hernan shut his eyes briefly, recalling the early moments when Kirk wouldn’t so much as look at him. He believed he was so beyond him, so untouchable. A less experienced Hernan might have agreed. A Hernan that never got to know the fanged scientist might have insisted such. But maybe he didn’t want to be untouchable. Not all the time. </p><p>Moments passed and the vampire slowly pried his fangs away, tasting the blood running steadily down his neck. No teeth. No pain. Just the welcome feeling of cold on hot. Hernan shuddered, opening his eyes and seeing Kirk’s intense red gaze settled on him. He licked his red-smattered lips, cracking a dark and playful smile. </p><p>“You’re blushing.”</p><p>Hernan said nothing, surprised by the new gravel in the other’s voice. </p><p>At that, the vampire laughed, pulling his hand from the Kryptonian’s hair. It was a different laugh, low and rumbly as he returned to his neck for another drink. Hernan stopped him this time, gently yet firmly taking his chin. As he examined him, it was all too clear which half of him had the reins, and yet a certain tenderness prevailed through the wildness. </p><p>“I think that’s enough for now,” he said gently.</p><p>“Enough?” Kirk repeated almost sweetly. His chilled palm slid up the other side of Hernan’s neck, utterly transfixed. “<b>I can never have enough of you.</b>” He leaned in with a speed that would have astounded anyone else. Hernan didn’t flinch, or even blink, easily holding him away. </p><p>“Listen to me,” said Hernan. </p><p>There was always an unavoidable high that came with that longer leash, he thought. He saw it now in the other’s eyes, and there was no denying the times he’d felt it, too. Sequestered on a world so fragile yet so complex, sometimes it felt good to take the gloves off. But no matter how long or loose the leash became, he still wore a leash. Some days willingly, other days out of sheer obligation. That was the issue with desire; it seldom aligned with what was best for everyone.</p><p>Kirk struggled to no avail as they once again touched the ground, strong hands settling on his heaving shoulders as he was now pressed to the wall. He let out a frustrated shout. </p><p>Hernan would’ve been lying through his teeth if he said the people’s words didn’t cut him down every now and again. It was that very thing that intrigued him about Kirk. Whereas the general populous condemned Superman for his actions, Batman did that by himself for the most part. There was no “other half” for Hernan to pull from or to fear; he was himself, and only himself. Sometimes that was scarier. Sometimes it was all he wanted to be. Right now, all he wanted to be was close to the one who could understand him. </p><p>The other’s mesmerizing crimson eyes flitted between rage and restraint as it became clear he wasn’t going anywhere. </p><p>“That’s it,” Hernan crooned, “let it pass.” He could see it all coming back; the monster receded, slowly draining from his eyes. He took a step back, giving him room.</p><p>Kirk blinked, recognition returning. He got a good look at the other; the collar of his shirt was stained through, broken lines of red trailing down his neck. His fingers curled into fists. “…Are you okay…?”</p><p>“Oh, I’m fine.” Hernan pressed his palm to his neck and nodded steadily.</p><p>“…Is that the truth?”</p><p>“It is, and don't you dare apologize.”</p><p>Kirk gripped his own arm, squeezing it and almost appearing…embarrassed. “…I was rough.”</p><p>“I can handle rough.”</p><p>“So I’ve learned,” the vampire half-chuckled, undoing his now unkempt bun. His darkened hair fell on either side of his face, gaze averting. “That really was… an experience.”</p><p>“It was, wasn’t it?” The Kryptonian shrugged off his shirt, the wounds nearly completely healed up. He couldn’t help the next thing he said. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”</p><p>“I-I’m sorry?”</p><p>“I believe you heard me, Doctor. Now,” the blue-eyed man sauntered past Kirk, ignoring his baffled stare, “I’m gonna go wash up and cook me something good.”</p><p>“No,” Kirk protested, “<i>I’m</i> making you dinner.”</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hernan and Kirk cool down and take some time to think, each lost in their own head.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cooking seemed like such a distant recreation. But once Kirk picked up the first utensil, it all came back to him. The vegetables Hernan harvested were peeled, cut, and sauteed with care, and another human joy returned to the vampire. Though it wasn’t the only thing he noticed. He felt… different. More grounded. He didn’t speak on it, just as he decided not to speak on what happened between him and the Kryptonian some thirty-odd minutes ago.</p><p>It certainly wasn’t as if he could put it into words, and Hernan didn’t rush to dive into the topic, either. But even as he measured out the appropriate seasonings and stirred the contents of the pan, he couldn’t really stop mulling over it.</p><p>Hernan was on the phone with his sister now, pacing back and forth between the kitchen and living room. He wore something more suited for indoors, his button-up shirt and khakis traded for a black tank and sweats. The conversation was completely in Spanish, and for a moment, Kirk listened to the small and dulcet voice on the other end. His laughter sounded from the other room, tone softer, almost doting with her. Indeed, she was his little sister, and he didn’t seem to forget that even at this age. Though he tried not to eavesdrop, he could make out the words “dinner,” “room,” “nephew,” and “gifts.” A familiar twinge of nervousness rose within him. He set it aside and prepared a second pan for fish and a pot for rice.</p><p>He imagined everything so far smelled appetizing, but it was merely a guess. What wafted from the stovetop was pure and crude, individual aromas undiminished in the simmering decoction. But that was what Hernan was for. He waved him over to come and taste what he’d made, quietly pleased to see his impressed expression. He kindly gathered three seasonings as he continued on the phone, and Kirk knowingly added a bit more pepper, salt, and onion powder.</p><p>The wind began howling outside, wrapping its icy tendrils around the corners of the house. Curious, Kirk slipped to the window beside the far counter, unshuttering the blinds. Clouds consumed the sky now, tinged with a dull, reddish haze. Snow was coming. A spark of joy flared in his chest. This wasn’t something he’d have been able to enjoy months ago. No, his would have been far too occupied with… other things. Lingering a few seconds more, he returned to his place at the stove, determined to appear composed in front of his...</p><p> </p><p>…It was too soon to say it. Far too fresh a thing to make official with one word. With one thought. </p><p>He licked his drying lips, stealing a glance at the other who was still very much invested in his conversation. The beauty and intrigue of the man was staggering at times. He was Kryptonian. He was not. He was decisive and swift. He was considerate and tender. Kirk liked to believe he was some of those things, too. </p><p>He wondered what piece of the puzzle he had to offer, what of him could complete a man like Hernan. He didn’t know, he didn’t understand, but he believed what he saw in the other’s eyes. It was real. </p><p>Like the kiss. </p><p>Like the bite.</p><p>Fate didn’t seem so concrete these days. It was more like a fluid, unpredictable stream. Still, he was taken by it all the same, to a destination he was unsure of but no longer opposed to. It was as frightening as it had always been, but… the fear wasn’t so concrete these days, either.</p><p>Hernan walked by and reached inside the cabinet for a near-untouched bottle of brandy. He pulled down a tumbler glass with it and set them both down on the marble counter, rolling his eyes amusedly as Valentina seemed to tease him. She laughed as he ended the call with a huffy “te quiero” and wishes of a good night, quietly muttering under his breath. </p><p>The sound of sizzling filled the kitchen as the fish was carefully placed in the well-oiled pan.</p><p>…</p><p>Not long after, dinner was ready. Hernan sat alone in the dining room as his fanged partner took in the night air on the porch. His fidgeting silhouette was illuminated by the dim bulb mounted to the wall above the door. </p><p>Most of the plants and produce surrounding the front of the house had long since wilted under the icy touch of winter. They would once again rise and flourish, but that time was not now. Now was a time for quiet. For biding. But not for Kirk. He mulled. He brooded. He swung like a pendulum. </p><p>Hernan Guerra thought very fondly of this man. He, who wanted the people’s safety and their blood. A rushing, warring, caring, feeling individual who knew a similar isolation. He, who trusted Superman, but only believed his darker self. A walking dichotomy. </p><p>He gave a pleased hum as he brought a glazed and buttery forkful of cod fish to his mouth. </p><p>This house was a haven for the sun-god. It was a place to assess and sort the noise of his mind. He hoped it could do the same for Kirk. </p><p>The grainy mutterings of the television came into focus as he returned to the present. </p><p>“—appears to be in collaboration with and under the protection of Metropolis’ Superman. That’s right, folks. It isn’t enough that we have a deranged killing machine doling out so-called ‘justice’ every other night. Now, the world’s most powerful being is at our doorstep vouching for him.”</p><p>“Damn right, I am,” Hernan muttered lowly, brow furrowing. He made his way to the living room, attention caught.</p><p>“One has to wonder what we can do to hold these individuals accountable, to regulate and reprimand their behavior. I hate to say it, but nothing so intangible as the law can stop these egomaniacs from doing what they want. Today, it’s Metropolis or Gotham. Tomorrow, the east coast, the entire country. It may not look it, but this is quickly becoming a national issue; no one knows who will emerge next claiming to be our savior.”</p><p>“A national issue,” Kirk echoed from the door, arms folded over his head, “way to build hysteria.”</p><p>“That’s the point,” Hernan huffed resignedly, switching the channel. “So be it. It doesn’t matter.”</p><p>The vampire slowly approached, heels clicking against polished wood. The leather of the sofa crunched as he leaned over the back, a quick sigh escaping him. “You sure? Probably couldn’t hurt to hire a PR guy.”</p><p>“Ha,” Hernan laughed, “probably.” </p><p>The silence that followed was a pregnant one. Hernan could hear the subtleties of irregularity in the other’s breathing. The relative, quickened pace of his heart. He was nervous, tense. Had been since he fed from him. </p><p>“Can I ask you something, Kirk?” He motioned for him to sit beside him, and the vampire obliged.</p><p>“Go ahead.”</p><p>“How’re you <i>really</i> feeling right now?”</p><p>It was a simple question whose answer could be far more complicated. But, for once, it wasn’t. “I feel… good,” he answered steadily, almost cautiously, “but that’s a little… strange after...”</p><p>“Mm,” Hernan gently swirled his glass, shifting his weight to face him a little better. “I used to feel that way all the time.” He took a sip of his drink, noticing the vampire glancing at his now-healed neck. Only redness remained in the area, and he slowly moved a hand over it. “…I told my sister a little bit about you.”</p><p>The vampire’s eyes slightly widened. “…What’d you tell her?”</p><p>“That you’re different. That you’re someone who wouldn’t hurt a fly except for his virtues. That you’re wound tight and have forgotten the warmth of smiling company.” </p><p>Hernan wanted to remind him of it, bit by bit. He could hear some of the questions swirling around in his head now, the guilt that was his wont. He searched for words in his eyes and lovely face. These were words he recognized. Reminiscent. Familiar.</p><p>“We still haven’t talked about it, you know,” said Hernan. No response. “You’ve been avoiding it.”</p><p>For a while, the other didn’t speak, nor did he seem able to. In a strange way, there was an answer in that. It was in the way he knitted his brow, the way his body curled into itself. Like it was trying to escape itself, but only ran into more of what it feared. It was in the way his mouth twitched, words trapped behind a barricade. What trials did he believe he put him through? Even now, that shadow of dread cloaked him like a blanket, feeding him his unwarranted shame. </p><p>“I…” Kirk’s voice died out, and he exhaled a shallow breath. His eyes shut as he seemed to formulate his response, forearms resting on his knees as he laced his fingers together. “It’s hard to explain. I was… uncaged. Exposed. <i>Alive.</i> Like you could see me, and there was nothing I could do to hide it. But you didn’t reject it. You weren’t disgusted by it.” His red eyes opened and stared ahead as if it were a crime to even look in his direction. </p><p>“When I… <i>get that way…</i> it’s tunnel vision. I can’t really stop it once it’s started. It goes until it’s over. All this time, I was afraid to know what you might have tasted like because of that. Now I know, and…” A hint of that wildness flashed over his countenance before he quickly pushed it down and out of sight. “…Now I know.” </p><p>Hernan saw it. That rawness. It was a thing to behold, something that glittered in the eye of the man supposedly so above the world. The past whispered behind Kirk’s words, a soundless longing for the excuse to discard this new monstrousness. This very new and very lasting desire. It wasn’t very monstrous to the Kryptonian, however. He alone could afford that. But what remained to be seen was any reason for such permeating doubt from the other. “I was gone. But then you said my name, and I heard your voice, and… some part of me came back. It had sway over the hunger, if only for a second. That’s never happened before. It was all so shocking.” He raised his clasped hands, pressing his index fingers to his lips. “Scary, too.”</p><p>Kirk didn’t realize just how much Hernan understood him. To have a human mind and an inhuman body. Which does one trust? Which does one relinquish control to? Both men were broken in half, split hairs of the same strand. Hernan was used to being the uncommon denominator, the unencapsulated. He bore these things alone. It had its perks. It also had its pitfalls.</p><p>“…Is this how it is for you? When someone gets a peek behind the mask?” Kirk asked quietly.</p><p>“Mask?” Hernan repeated. “I wear no mask.”</p><p>Kirk finally looked at him. His eyes were tired, if not a bit doubtful, but he didn’t protest. It wasn’t his way, after all. But it didn’t need to be; it shone in the glaze of his eyes, in his wordful silence. The Kryptonian allowed a small sigh to escape him. He wore no mask. </p><p>And yet…</p><p>Was that true? Perhaps he hadn’t been listening to himself as intently as he thought. A voice in the back of his head demanded that he backpedal from this new conversation. Another argued that it wouldn’t be fair. But how often was he fair?</p><p>Instead, he dismissed the chilling prelude, turning his attentions once more to the slim vampire. </p><p>“…Scary’s good,” he said.</p><p>“Hm?” Kirk didn’t follow.</p><p>“You said it was scary. Scary’s good. Something to conquer.” He kept his tone even. “We’ll do it together.”</p><p>Kirk nodded but said nothing. The action itself seemed less of a response to Hernan and more of a means to shake his thoughts free from his head. He watched him as he did it a few seconds too long, drew in a slow breath through his nose, chewed his lip. A part of Hernan really enjoyed this gauche side of him. He didn’t really know why. Still, he bestowed his mercy and changed the subject.</p><p>“Dinner was wonderful, by the way. Never pegged you as a cook.”</p><p>Kirk shifted himself to face Hernan, leaning his head against the chair’s back. “I always enjoyed cooking for everyone else. For myself, not so much.”</p><p>“Why’s that?” </p><p>“Oh, I dunno. Never had the time?” The vampire glanced down at the seat cushion, fingers curling into the leather. “Guess it doesn’t matter now.”</p><p>“I guess it doesn’t,” Hernan hummed.</p><p>“…I’m glad you liked it. It was fun,” Kirk said. There was a thoughtful pause. “Today was fun.” The faintest of smiles came to his lips, the kind that anyone could miss. Hernan didn’t. </p><p>“It was.”</p><p>The wind picked up outside, howling against the sturdy windows. The voiceless air held no heaviness now, and the two simply enjoyed each other’s company. Though he didn’t speak on it, Hernan was still very much reeling from it all. He was sure he didn’t have a chance with the scientist. He was sure, until yesterday. And he would have been content toeing the line of friendship. He would have been fine wondering. At least, for a while. But those eyes would wear on him eventually. And those lips, as soft-spoken as they were vicious, would have eventually roped him in. It was all so unavoidable. </p><p>Kirk wordlessly inched closer, fingers brushing over the Kryptonian’s and stirring him from his musings. </p><p>“Those blood tests you said were being run for you… What were they for?”</p><p>Hernan absently flipped through channels, stretching the time before answering. “This… Kryptonite sickness I have. I wanted to see if it could be reversed.”</p><p>Kirk was quiet now, for a bit longer than was comfortable. His gaze was drawn to the other’s glass of brandy on the coffee table, watching as the condensation built. </p><p>Hernan didn’t like talking about things like… this. Things that bothered him. But what he liked less was suspense. It was so rare he found himself tense, nervous. The ordeal of being known. Of being seen. This was unavoidable, too.</p><p>“Any progress?” the vampire finally asked. </p><p>“Nope.” The sun-god shook his head with a terse sigh. “…It’s stupid, isn’t it?”</p><p>“No,” the vampire spoke quietly, “it’s human.” Hernan blinked. He continued. “You’re fast, you’re bullet-proof, you can raise a building over your head with one hand… You have no weaknesses except for the one.”</p><p>“You got me,” Hernan shrugged resignedly, “all the power in the world and it’s still not enough.”</p><p>“It’s more than that,” Kirk half-muttered, cool fingers dragging over the back of his hand, “and I’m not judging you for it.” </p><p>Now it was Hernan’s turn to be silent. Honestly, what could he say? Seldom do these things catch up with him, but when they do, he’s alone. It was easy to rush away certain thoughts in the solitude of these walls. That’s why he liked it. But he let someone in. And now it was time to think. He wasn’t sure he wanted to.</p><p>“…Your ship,” Kirk started again, “were you able to pull any more information from it?” </p><p>“I have someone working on that for me, too… but no.” He debated whether to ask the next question, meeting red eyes. “Are you worried?”</p><p>“What if I am?”</p><p>“Well, then, I’d ask you not to be,” the sun-god tilted the other’s chin, turning on the charm that came so naturally. “This is nothing new to me. Things’ll change as soon as they’re ready to.”</p><p>Again, that uncertain look returned to the vampire’s face. Passivity was not his way and he knew it. “How long are you willing to wait—” Hernan sealed his lips with his own, a small sound escaping from Kirk. His fingers moved into his lengthened hair, which was quite soft, and thicker than it looked. Dark locks easily caught by his touch, the subtle scent of shampoo was carried to him. It smelled nice. He smelled nice. He gently pulled away, pleased to find any further inquiries were lost on the Kirk. </p><p>“Some other night,” he croaked, tickled by Kirk’s sudden bashfulness. “We’ll continue this some other night.”</p><p>The vampire attempted firmness in his tone and failed, visibly swallowing. “We’d better.”</p><p>…</p><p>The strain of adhering to Hernan’s waking schedule eventually took its toll on Kirk, and he’d passed out on the couch before Hernan could offer him any overnight clothes. The neck of his sweater had since unfurled on one side, part of the hem untucked from his pants. His leg was deadweight against Hernan’s, head tilted sideways against the cushion. His dark lashes fluttered as he dreamed, and Hernan watched with soft amusement. If he recalled correctly, he would wake up 4 to 5 hours later for his next meal. </p><p>For the second time, his hand came up to his neck. No puncture wounds. No scars. No trace. But he somehow still felt it, a ghost of a thing sinking into his unpierceable flesh. He didn’t mind it. In fact, he liked it. That only Kirk could do this to him.</p><p>The night’s first snowfall had begun, flecks of white zipping past the window.</p><p>His own words echoed in his head. <i>Are you worried?</i></p><p>Worried. Very few people have ever worried <i>for</i> him. Did he give them something to worry about? He believed he took it all on the chin, grinned and bore it all seamlessly. Apparently not. Valentina would say otherwise. Now, so would Kirk. </p><p>Maybe it was unfair what he did, sidestepping a conversation about him. It was a terrible habit, one he’d struggled to do away with for years. He rubbed his knees, staring at nothing. </p><p>“Mask” was too strong a word; he imagined it more like a veil, a fog that blurred the truth but didn’t quite hide it. It was behind the confidence. The steady voice. The regretless air about him. He was what he was, unintelligible to those who glanced. He was a hand reaching out, a hand pulling away. A walking dichotomy.</p><p>How similar he and Kirk were. </p><p>Some minutes later, he got up to retrieve a blanket and pillow from the closet. Kirk shifted then settled as the thick comforter was draped over him, the peace on his face so different from the first time he was a guest in this house. Hernan placed the pillow beside him in case he laid flat.</p><p>“Goodnight.”</p>
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